health

In the summer of 2020, while the virus raged and my marriage folded in and collapsed in slow motion upon itself, I decided that I would become infertile. My husband sat next to me in the waiting room before I was wheeled away, surprisingly good-natured about it all, even taking a selfie of us for posterity. I was relieved. He was my high school sweetheart and a fervent Catholic who had insisted I…