I recall exactly zero details about how we came to know I was pregnant. I was still in a fog from having just become intimately acquainted with medical terms no person with access to the Internet should ever be in possession of, and while miraculously turning up pregnant should have cured my depression overnight, it didn’t, not exactly anyway. I was happy, or maybe relieved is more accurate, and I managed to forgive that bullshit fertility doctor who called me old when I am fresh and shiny as the morning dew, but I wasn’t over the moon. Edges were soft; a hazy sheen muted the good times.