“Truth.”
I stopped.
Turned around.
Mama was watching me with that look—the one that said she knew more than I was telling her and was deciding whether or not to push.
“You sure about this?” she asked quietly.
“Yeah.”
“Because once you start?—”
“I know, Mama.”
She nodded slowly.
“Alright then.”
I walked out before she could say anything else. I didn’t give her all the details yet, just enough.
New Beginnings Fertility Center sat on a tree-lined street in the Garden District, tucked between a law office and a boutiquethat sold overpriced candles. The building was old—historic, probably—with tall windows and wrought-iron balconies that looked like they belonged in a postcard.
I stood on the sidewalk for a full minute, staring at the brass plaque beside the door.
New Beginnings Fertility Center
Reproductive Endocrinology & IVF Services
My hands were sweating.
I wiped them on my jeans and walked inside.
The lobby was nothing like I expected.
It wasnice.
Soft lighting. Pale gray walls. A lavender diffuser on the reception desk that made the whole room smell like a spa. Classical music played quietly from hidden speakers.
It felt expensive.
It felt like a place where people with money came to fix problems that people like me just lived with.
The receptionist looked up and smiled.
“Good morning. Do you have an appointment?”
“Yeah. Truth Renois. Nine o’clock.”
She typed something into her computer, then handed me a clipboard.
“Perfect. Just fill out these forms and bring them back when you’re done. Dr. Beaumont will be with you shortly.”
I took the clipboard and sat in one of the plush chairs by the window.
The forms were long.
Medical history. Family history. Medications. Allergies. Have you ever been pregnant before? Have you ever had a miscarriage? Do you smoke? Do you drink?
