My ex-husband called to brag that his mistress was pregnant. “Come to the wedding. You’ll see a woman who can give me a real family,” he laughed, insulting my 5 years of failed IVF. As I held my newborn daughter in the hospital, I looked at his digital wedding invite. I didn’t cry. I looked at the corporate sponsor on his wedding invitation, smiled, and prepared his destruction.
CHAPTER 1: The Cold Call from the Birth Suite The sterile scent of antiseptic and stale hospital coffee clung to the room like an inescapable fog. Outside the glass window …
My ex-husband called to brag that his mistress was pregnant. “Come to the wedding. You’ll see a woman who can give me a real family,” he laughed, insulting my 5 years of failed IVF. As I held my newborn daughter in the hospital, I looked at his digital wedding invite. I didn’t cry. I looked at the corporate sponsor on his wedding invitation, smiled, and prepared his destruction. Read More