… but still utterly devastating.
Got the call just before my 15 minute morning break from my day-long work retreat. Called back as soon as I could bolt down the four floors to my office.
HCG is 11. I’m not pregnant.
Here I sit with my reddened nose and eyes back in my never-ending meeting. How do you focus on discussions of pedagogy when your heart is broken, your hands are shaking, your breathing is shallow, and your world is spinning?