The only time my husband ever cheated on me was with a cup. After my third miscarriage my doctor sat me down with great seriousness and as if it was a big surprise said, “I think you have a problem.” Somehow I knew he wasn’t referring to my habit of hiding empty cookie bags and Nordstrom receipts from my husband. He gave me a referral for a fertility specialist and sent me on my way. It was official, I had a problem and along with it, validation for what I had been fearing for months. Strange as…
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Posted on July 8, 2009 at 11:25am —