~Jennie’s~

“You’ll feel a little pressure,” the nurse says, but I already do. Just not the kind she means.

I nod anyway, lying still as she adjusts the ultrasound wand and gently presses it against my belly. The gel is cold, and the room is too white, too clean, too… hollow. I stare at the ceiling. I count tiles. I try not to blink too fast because if I do, the tears will spill again.

There’s nothing on the screen. Just black and grey, like fog.

The doctor murmurs something about healing tissue, uterus recovery, iron levels. I hear none of it. My mind is louder. It keeps shouting the...