Each morning I wake up with him on my mind and pain in my heart. The trinkling of a sunbeam peeking through the drawn blinds of my window illuminated the bits of dust meandering around the air. I rolled over onto my side and hugged a grey pillow close. Curling around a pillow was one of the most comforting things I have found in this world, but the mornings caused even this to evade me.

My boyfriend called to me from the kitchen in our small apartment. His voice cheerfully encouraging me to get out of the bed and come get breakfast. It had been a while since he made breakfast last, but I was just glad I didn’t have to make my own coffee this time. Somehow, like every other morning, I replied back in a groggy and sleepy voice that sounded like I had just woken up. I told him that I was tired and was slugging myself out of bed. He seemed convinced, as plates clinked down onto the small tan table.

I pulled myself up, sitting with my legs dangling off the edge of the bed. Tears welling up in my eyes with threat of spilling over, I put a warm hand to my thin belly. I wanted a baby. I knew we weren’t ready for a babe for so many reasons, but… I wanted my child. I would name him Joseph. My sweet baby Joseph… You’ll come to me one day. And that man in the kitchen will be your father. I promise.


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