After years of secondary infertility, my wife and I discovered she was pregnant on Father’s Day of 2016. It was a stunning moment for us, a seemingly miraculous answer to prayers that we had mostly given up on.
But three weeks later we were called into the Emergency Room because of a concerning blood test. After follow-up tests, the doctor told us the pregnancy was likely to end in a miscarriage, but that we shouldn’t be too upset because this happens to a lot of women, and it was only a fetus, not a baby. He mumbled something about a counselor and left the room when he realized his attempts to comfort my wife had failed miserably.
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