By Brooklyn Reader

January 6, 2016, 4:57 am

 
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The nurse wheeled me into the most sun-filled room that cold January morning. They were in a small basket, hugging each other tightly. The nurses dressed them in white garments with cute hats, with furry pink balls at the tip. They looked so much like their dad it was unfair. How I could experience an inexhaustible amount of morning sickness and not get one trait out of the deal, I thought jokingly.

I had such a peace when I saw them. They were perfect. The pastor that married us a year earlier was now saying a prayer over our highest hopes, our now deceased babies. Click here for more.


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