THE PREGNANCYThe morning sickness had started as a whisper, but lately, it had become a roar. I stood over the porcelain basin in our washroom, my hands gripping the edges so hard my knuckles were white. The sun was just starting to peek through the heavy curtains of our bedroom, but I had been awake for an hour, fighting my own stomach.

I washed my face with cold water, shivering as the droplets hit my skin. I looked in the mirror. My face was pale, but there was a light in my eyes I hadn't ...