In an alternate timeline of my life, I’m a mother to seven-year-old twins. I think about her sometimes, that woman with two children. I wonder if she’s happy.
I imagine the children as identical boys; other times they’re girls. Sometimes they’re not identical at all – one looks exactly like me and the other is a mini version of my husband.
But that isn’t reality. Because nearly eight years ago, when I was 35 years old and three years into my marriage, I had an abortion.
It was twins, a fact that had been revealed to me as the clinic’s sonographer examined me,
To provide well-rounded coverage and a breadth of insight across various events, we rely on contributions from several staff writers, each bringing their own area of expertise to our publication.