On this day four years ago, I laid in a hospital bed, 20 weeks pregnant, my mother’s hands on my shoulders, as the doctor searched for a heartbeat. The room was silent and remained silent until the doctor said, “I’m sorry we cannot find a heartbeat, your baby is no longer alive.” I had nothing to say as tears streamed down my face, but the familiarity of my mother’s embrace comforted me. It was the same one she gave when I was made fun of in school, lost things I worked hard for, had my first break up and lost my brother. One that was tight and let me know that everything would be okay. And she was right, I knew I would be okay I just didn’t know I would eventually be happy about it.
— I’m thankful for the practice round.
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