My wife and I started trying for a baby shortly before the first Covid in 2020, when she was 30 and I was 36. Over the following two years, during a time of social distancing and banned family contact, she had six miscarriages.
Each is etched into our memories.
The first came after the scan of our twins at eight weeks. Our eyes locked on the screen of the ultrasound — that circle of darkness, in search of form and movement.
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