Twenty years ago this week my then-girlfriend told me that she had had a miscarriage. It didn't bother me much then, because I was only 24 and hadn't known her for very long. But now, man, I'd have a nineteen-year-old kid. Probably very pretty or very handsome. Probably very smart. Probably very kind and giving.
I miss having the opportunity.
But, I realize that I probably wouldn't have my beautiful, smart, kind and giving eight-year-old daughter.
I'm very glad for that opportunity.
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