For a split second, the blood on the toilet paper didn’t seem out of the ordinary. For a split second, I went through my usual routine of silently cursing my womanhood and preparing to reach for the medicine cabinet. For a split second, I forgot that I was pregnant.
And then it came rushing back: the blood, this time accompanied by tears.
There was little time to mourn after an ultrasound confirmed that I had lost the baby. There was another son waiting to be picked up from preschool, there was wine to be bought for the dinner we were attending that night, and there was a writing project due by close of business.