For ten years, my husband Joshua and I lived in a house defined by its quietness. We had weathered the storm of infertility, eventually reaching a place of somber acceptance. We filled our lives with careers and hobbies—I threw myself into my executive role, and he took up fishing. We were a team of two, navigating a world that seemed built for four. Or so I thought, until Joshua’s acceptance shattered almost overnight. Suddenly, he was obsessed with the idea of a family. He started stopping at playgrounds, watching children with a hunger in his eyes that bordered on desperation....
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