I tried to dial the number to the clinic, phone in my hand, frozen by the burden of choice. It’s for the best, my friend told me. We can’t do this, we’re not ready. This from the father, though my mind shied away from words like father and baby. Did I know then? Did I understand on some level how a child changes you, dominates mind and heart and soul, turns you into someone you don’t recognize? I could stop it. Dial the number, make the appointment, go and stay myself. Become myself on my own terms…
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