My life suddenly had purpose, if nothing else than to give Analiese all my love. We were okay with having just one child until once again, I became pregnant and once again miscarried. It was more bearable this time, because I already had my little girl. When she asked for a baby brother for Christmas, I didn’t know what to say. But when my period was 11 days late just this past February, I was hopeful, joyful even. Then, the cramping started and I found myself hiding my depression from my husband, crying in the shower so my child wouldn’t see, and telling my friends I only plan on having one anyway because admitting that I want one more would be admitting that I can’t. I couldn’t deal with the fact that I am a Latina with fertility issues.
