Looking back at the person I was before that horrible October evening, I barely recognize her anymore. The trust I had in the people who raised me died on those concrete steps outside my childhood home, along with almost everything else.
My pregnancy with the twins had been difficult from the start. At eight months, I was already experiencing Braxton Hicks contractions that sometimes felt real enough to send me into a panic. My doctor had warned me about stress and told me to take things easy, but life doesn’t always cooperate with medical advice.
