When a Dream Dies
My first pregnancy had been SO easy. First try. Pregnant. Not a day of morning sickness. And notwithstanding the fact that I'd had my son the old-fashioned way because no anesthesiologists were on hand when I arrived at the hospital, his birth was also easy. Two years later, I was ready to have another baby. I'd get pregnant in late August; an early summer baby wouldn't interfere with my busy time at work, and allow me to enjoy a summer off. Baby number two -- coming right up.