I sobbed on the carpet of an empty room in the house my husband and I had just moved into. These cries were guttural, primal sobs, the kind that made it hard to breathe, the kind that left me choking. I had avoided this room for weeks, only walking in briefly to grab work supplies from the closet. But today, I finally confronted the truth: This room would never become the nursery we had once dreamed of.
