“I spent six years,” I said, leaning over the counter so that he would have to look up at me, “trying to bring those two girls into the world.

Six years, Julian.

Do you remember them, or were you too stressed?

Six years of fertility treatments.

Of hormone injections I gave myself in the bathroom before work.

Of losses I will not describe to you standing in this kitchen, but that I carry, every one of them, and always will.

Of an emergency surgery to deliver our daughters that I am still, physically, recovering from.

I went through all of that, in my own body, so that you could have the family you say you wanted.”