By tonyaw on November 04, 2011
I am 10 minutes early.
After signing my name on the first available line, I sit and wait.
Deliberately I thumb through magazines, one after the other as families of four smile up at me from the glossy pages.
It’s finally my turn.
I am ushered to a dark room and asked to undress.
The image on the large screen above me is fuzzy, difficult to make out and yet somehow I know.
My hands begin to sweat and I am holding my breath.
“I’m sorry, there is no heartbeat.”
A sound I have never made before escapes my throat.
Tonya writes Letters For Lucas and at any given moment can be found changing a diaper or enjoying a glass of Cab while Dave Matthews plays in the background.
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