Once more, Michael is ushered into the playroom off the office so Cuther and I can talk. But first, I ask to use the restroom. The pain that’s come over my midsection is so intense I break out in a cold sweat. When people told me how blessed I was to be having a child all those years ago, they never said anything about the nerves that go along with parenting. And what’s all this about it only getting worse as the kid gets older?
Moments later, the pain has abated, and I’m back inside Cuther’s office. The pale-faced doctor is back to sitting behind his desk, making some notes in what I presume to be Michael’s file. I choose not to sit but, instead, stand before his desk, arms crossed over my chest, my brow pasty, my body still overcome with chills.
“You feeling well, Ms. Underhill?” he s
