‘Ewww put that away. I’ll never get stretchmarks like that when I’m pregnant.’ It was such a personal attack – feelings of shame and disgust had me cringing at my husband’s touch.’

“I was left curled up on the couch in the fetal position. I remember grabbing my thighs and crying to my husband, ‘How am I so big already? How could I possibly get any bigger?’ My 3-year-old son asked, ‘Mama, what’s wrong with your belly?’”

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‘She came running into the house screaming. ‘What? What is it?’ ‘Outside.’ She pointed to the open front door. ‘Daddy. The bird.’ I picked her up, and she buried her head into me sobbing.’

“‘Okay, let’s go look.’ She was hesitant, but tiptoed out to the porch. ‘What’s going on out here?,’ I asked, still confused. ‘There are babies! He killed the babies!’ The look on my face turned from confusion to horror. ‘What?’ I snapped my head towards my husband.”

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