By Friday, I was actually sick. I told Laura it was because Vicki and I hadn’t talked, but I knew that wasn’t the whole truth.
Apparently Laura did, too.
“When was your last period?” she said, dropping into the chair in my office.
I was staring at the wall of photos behind my desk. Pictures of all the babies I’d helped create. Babies whose parents came to me looking for help, and I gave them what they wanted.
I was terrified of the thought that I was going to have one of those in a few months.
“I’m not pregnant,” I said.
“Are you sure?”
I shook my head. I couldn’t say the words.
“Did you use protection?”
“Always!”
“Antibiotics?”
“Nope.”
“Condoms and birth control?”
I nodded.
“Did you forget a pill?”
I shook my head. “I went back this week and double checked that I wasn’t beh
