The Pregnancy Test in My Desk Drawer

Lord, for fifteen years I told Mark, "Next year" when he asked about babies. My promotion, our travel plans, the unstable housing market - always an excuse. The gynecologist called it "premature ovarian failure" but I heard "selfish." Now our guest room stays empty while my sister's kids crayon my walls during visits. Mark never blames me, which makes the ultrasound photos in his wallet hurt more. You planted seeds in me that I let wither while tending career weeds.