I tried to get that dream out of my mind. I tried to get Barnett out of my mind. Neither worked.
I relived the s*x, the pleasure it had brought me, over and over. I contemplated Barnett’s disappearance after the labor and what it meant. But mostly, I thought about that baby boy.
I knew he wasn’t real, and yet the fact that I could not hold him again brought me great sadness. He represented everything I didn’t get to have before and everything I still would not be able to have. Even if there were some way to get past the infertility Bob always said I had, I had months—weeks—left to live and could never carry a healthy baby to full term.
The only way I could force these thoughts from my mind was through exercise. Unfortunately, I was finding it harder an
