As a young girl, I watched my aunt cry from a far when she visited our home to see my mother. Being ten, I knew too well to tell the difference between having a baby bump and coming home without a baby. Somehow, I sensed that we would never see the baby. On asking my mother, she then brushed it off and mentioned a hard word ‘miscarriage’ explaining that aunt had lost her baby. It wasn’t until in my university days that I came to resonate with that term. However, when in my first year of marriage with Ben, we were plunged into a lifetime of having to understand and deal with it. Ben and I on our long awaited…

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