Peering wide-eyed down at the sheets, I feel my heart contract. I clutch at it. Rub it. Without even seeing the mess, I know my lower half is wet. “It’s okay, sweet girl.” I barely hear him. A whimper thrashing from inside me because I've lost them—again. Panicked, I touch the damp blanket around my waist, gasping for air through my rising pulse. I'm hollow. I feel hollow. Where are they? Where are my babies? I can't do this again. What is wrong with my body!
