One? Two? One? Shit.

"How many kids do you have?"

Ugh. The perpetual knot in my stomach tightens. I say one. Usually. Mostly out of self preservation. I say one. Then in my head, I apologize to Jocelyn. Because she counts. She does. I just don't always have the energy to go through all of it. And sometimes those who ask don't need the story. And sometimes, they don't deserve the story. So I generally say one. Even though I know that silence is counterproductive to awareness. Even though it literally pains me to deny her. Even though what I really want to do is climb the highest mountain and scream the loudest scream and tell the sweetest story of the beautiful baby whose mommy misses her every moment of every day. But instead, I say one as I avert my eyes. I take a deep breath as I rub my necklace.
I close my eyes and I whisper my love into the air.