Rachel and I were inseparable growing up. Two halves of the same heartbeat. We shared everything—secrets, clothes, reckless choices, and dreams of raising our children side by side. But life didn’t follow her script. Her first miscarriage shattered her. The second dimmed her light. By the third, she stopped smiling altogether.
She began to disappear. Skipped family dinners. Stopped visiting my boys—Jack, ten; Michael, eight; Tommy, seven; and little David, four. It was like joy had become unbearable.Continue reading…
