Walking out the bloody stall, doubled over in pain and crying. The day I miscarried my baby 25 weeks along at work and my boss found me in the bathroom and took me to the hospital. I didn’t want no one to know but I let my best friend know.
She called me with little sympathy. “You will be fine, women miscarry every day,” she said. “You told me your boyfriend didn’t want kids. Think of it as a blessing.” Looking at my phone wondering if she is joking or for real. No comfort. No cry your heart out this must be painful. No sympathy. Just heal and get ready to go partying next weekend.
Years later my best friend’s boyfriend died of a heart attack and now her daughter is fatherless.
When I called her to console her all I said was, “People die every day you will be fine.”