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I just got wheeled into the ER, and the surgeon who walked in is the same man I spent the night with two months ago. I was born mute, so everything they need from me I have to write down by hand. An hour ago I slipped on the wet stairs in my building, and now something in my left side is broken. The curtain pulled back, and the second he saw my face, he froze. He's watching me shake and cry without a sound, gripping the rail every time I breathe. He set the chart down, took my hand in his, "Squeeze my hand when it hurts, okay." Just then a nurse pushed through the curtain, reading off her clipboard. "Her test came back positive, doctor. She's about seven weeks along."