In a room smaller than a nursery, she sits upright on the plush leather couch and begins to cry. When she was young, she never could have guessed that it would go this way. Her therapist knows her better than anyone before. She leans back, stretching her ribcage, elongating her…

My parents have a secret from the world. It’s about them, their bodies, and choices they’ve made. However, the nature of the secret — one that relates to my conception — is invariably also about me. I’m thinking about whose story this is because this is a topic my mother…