SANDRA
For days, the scent of the hospital had clung to me, and the outburst at the doctor's office felt very shameful. I couldn't look Don in the eyes for a day or two. It was a dramatic display of anger and hurt, and even though I didn't mean it, I didn't regret it either. Don had watched me throughout that period, too.
The words of the doctor were still repeating in my mind every minute. He had said nothing was wrong with me, so why did he still mention that I can't have a child of my own?
After that visit, Don moved around the house with a careful tenderness I was yet to understand. His usual self was replaced by his deep concern, even about things I could totally handle by myself.
It sometimes felt suffocating. I didn't want pity from him, I needed help.
Then, one evening while
