The Clock

Tick.     Tick.     Tick.

I could feel the clock ticking, heard it over the whhirrrrr of the fan.

I curled around my aching abdomen, trying to breathe through each wave of what felt like my insides being stripped down like old wallpaper is removed from the wall. I knew what was happening. My uterus was remodeling, refurnishing itself for the next possibility of nourishing a zygote into a mini-human. A miracle in and of itself.

Once again I felt sadness. This month it was more than usual. See, I was eight days late and I had been hoping…


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