After years of infertility, Megan and Alex finally adopt a silent six-year-old girl. Just as their new life begins to settle, a single sentence from their daughter unravels everything they thought they knew…

When you’ve spent ten years trying to have a child, you start to think that the universe is punishing you for something you can’t name.

I don’t know how many appointments we went to.

I think I lost count after the fifth clinic and after the seventh specialist who said we should “manage expectations.” They always used such careful language, as though avoiding the word no would soften the blow.I had memorized the shape of waiting rooms. I could list side effects of medication like someone reading a grocery list. My husband, Alex, remained calm through all of it, even when I wasn’t. He held my hand during procedures and constantly whispered things.

“We’re not done hoping, Meg. Not by a long shot, love,” he’d say.

But one afternoon, when the last test came back worse than expected, we didn’t cry. We just sat at our kitchen table, holding our mugs of tea like lifelines, and we stared at each other.”I don’t want to keep doing this to you,” I said. “Alex, we both know I’m the problem here. It’s… my womb that isn’t hospitable.”

My husband reached across the table and laced his fingers through mine.”That may be so, Megan,” he said. “I don’t want us to stop trying to be parents. There are other ways, and I think we should put our energy into them… and stop tearing your body apart.”