Pregnant. I’d gotten myself pregnant with a child. An innocent, vulnerable child I had no clue how to care for. I had sworn to myself I would never let this happen. I was not made for raising children. Terror of the responsibility of such a task cast a heavy net over my head and dragged me down until my knees began to give out. In a haze of shock and horror, I hid the tests down in the trashcan and stumbled back to bed. I hid from the truth, curled up in a protective ball with blankets of denial and shock draped over me. My mind shut down. I didn’t allow the information to sink in or consider the briefest glimpse of what motherhood might look like. I simply drifted. When Matteo came back from his workout and found me in bed, I told him I wasn’t feeling well. My voice was sufficiently lifel
