Its the question I dread the most. And I am lying every time I answer it.
Small talk with strangers often leads to this place. And strangers don't want the real truth. They want the easy answer.
So I lie. One. I have one son.
My heart aches every time I say it. My body is conflicting itself. My mouth says something my heart knows isn't true.
My finger wears two rings - one for each of my sons.
I have cradled in my womb, two sons.
Yet the world will know one.
Both of my sons lives are meaningful and important.
Yet, somehow one of theirs is tucked away, hidden.
