The Smallest Coffins Are The Heaviest

Her name could have been Arya. I could have been her mother. I had already had two-and-a-half years of practice with Izna. My first-born.But she didn’t want any of it. She was upset from the day she was conceived. We never communicated so much in words. But I knew. In my womb. She wasn’t happy.Nine months. That’s all I kept asking of her. I was stubborn. And so was she. We both struggled. My first trimester was extremely turbulent. Nausea. Fever. Body aches. Allergic reactions.