“Thick skin

When she says

"I'm pregnant," and you fake a smile

All while she babbles about

Morning sickness and

Setting up a nursery and

She never thinks of you

Never does the mental math of how long

you've been waiting

Never sees the sadness in your eyes

Never listens to your monosyllabic responses

Thick skin

When the group chat

Is suddenly filled with

Newborn pictures and heart emojis

And you write something trite then mute it

Trying to ignore that voice in your head that says

"When you have a baby,

Don't expect anyone to go out of her way for you"

Trying to ignore the voice in your head that says

"If you have a baby"

Thick skin

When you tell yourself you don't really mind

Packing and double-checking all

your medications

For the one Shabbos, you spend away

But there are so many pills, and there are

The syringe, hand sanitizer, sharps container

Trying not to think about the days it was easy to

Throw a dress and pajamas in a suitcase

When it is easy to make weekend plans

When you weren't constantly thinking about

Whose kids are the least triggering and why

Thick skin

When you grab the fleshy part of your upper thigh

Cleanse it with an alcohol swab

Send a twisted prayer of gratitude because

You're a nurse, which means some part of you can medicalize this

Turn the emotions off, make it impersonal

Even if it's just for a few moments when it

matters most

And when you assess the site

And ensure the dosage of the progesterone

is correct

The thin metal of the needle always meets

Thick skin”