CHAPTER 3: Wishes
1237 Words
"Alright, my little sunshines,” Abigail said as she crouched beside the circle of cross-legged five-year-olds on the carpet, “today we’re going to make wish jars!”
A chorus of gasps filled the classroom, some excited, others confused—but all eager.
Milo, the boy with the widest dimples and the biggest imagination, raised his hand mid-sentence. “Miss Curtis! Do the jars really make wishes come true? Like, if I write that I want a pet dinosaur, will I get one?”
Abigail’s smile widened, warm and playful. “Hmm… maybe not a dinosaur. But you might get something even better.”
“Like a dragon?” he said breathlessly.
“Exactly,” she whispered with a wink, sending him into a gleeful squeal.
The classroom buzzed to life as the children scattered toward the activity tables. Glittery construction paper, glue sticks, markers, ribbons, and plastic jars were laid out across every surface. Tiny hands dove eagerly into the supplies, their voices overlapping with stories, dreams, and wild guesses about what to wish for.
Abigail stood, smoothing the front of her floral dress, and began making her way around the room—pausing at each table to admire the colorful chaos.
“Amelia,” she said softly, kneeling beside the quiet girl with a flower clip in her hair, “I love how you added stars to your jar. What did you write?”
Amelia turned her paper toward her with a shy smile. The letters were uneven and large.
“I wish my grandma will not be sick anymore.”
Abigail’s chest tightened. She gently rested a hand on Amelia’s back.
“That’s a beautiful wish,” she said quietly. “Your grandma is lucky to have you.”
Amelia nodded and added a rainbow above her words.
Just a few feet away, Liam was busy trying to glue a googly eye to his forehead.
“Liam,” Abigail said, trying not to laugh, “eyes go on the jar, not your face.”
He grinned proudly. “But I wanna look like a space monster.”
“Well, in that case,” she replied with a mock-serious tone, “I hope that space monster shares some of his googly eyes with the rest of the galaxy.”
He handed one to the classmate beside him with a triumphant smile.
It was in these moments that Abigail felt like herself. Just her and the children. A place where stars were cut from glitter paper and dreams were tucked inside plastic jars.
“Miss Curtis?”
She turned to find Olive standing near her desk, holding her jar with both hands and tugging shyly at Abigail’s cardigan.
“Yes, sweetheart?”
Olive tilted her head, her pigtails bouncing slightly. “You told us to make wishes… but what’s your wish, Miss Curtis?”
Abigail blinked, caught off guard. For a moment, the classroom noises dulled as the sound of crayons scraping paper, little scissors snipping construction paper stars, soft giggles and sticky fingers all fading into the background.
She smiled and knelt down to Olive’s level, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hmm… my wish?” she tapped her chin thoughtfully, then grinned. “I think I’d love to have cute kids of my own someday. Just like all of you.”
Several kids gasped dramatically like she just announced she had magical powers. But it was Milo, as usual, who wasted no time jumping in with a loud, very serious announcement.
“But Miss Curtis!” he said, wide-eyed. “You’re not even married yet! My mama said only when a big girl and a big boy get married, then boom—they have a baby later!”
Abigail opened her mouth, but he wasn’t done.
“I was in my mama’s tummy once. But sometimes I don’t get it. Like… how did I get in there? I think maybe she ate me, and then I stayed inside until I got big, and then she vomited me out at the hospital.”
There was a beat of silence in the class before Abigail burst into laughter. Even a few of the other kids started laughing, mostly because she was.
“Well, that’s… a very creative theory,” she managed between giggles. “Sure, sweetheart. Now go on and make more of those magical wishes, alright?”
Milo nodded seriously like he’d just solved a mystery, then turned back to his glitter-covered paper.
Abigail wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, still chuckling. Kids really were something else.
And honestly? She wouldn’t mind one or two just like them someday.
Just as Abigail enjoyed a bit of laughter, her phone buzzed across the room. It rattled against the wooden desk loud enough to cut through the joyful chaos of crayons and giggles.
She stood up slowly, brushing glitter from her lap, and walked over. The screen lit up,
Dr. Villanueva – OB-GYN
Her heart skipped.
She hesitated for a moment, then answered, turning slightly away from the kids so they couldn’t hear her voice change.
“Hello?”
“Miss Curtis? It’s Dr. Villanueva. Do you have a minute to talk?”
“Yes,” Abigail said quietly, clutching the phone a little tighter. “Go ahead.”
“I just got your results back and didn’t want to wait to share them. I know you've been feeling a little off lately, and now we know why.”
Abigail nodded even though the doctor couldn’t see her.
“There’s a significant drop in your AMH and a spike in FSH—these are hormone levels that help us understand your ovarian reserve. And based on those, I believe you’re in the early stages of menopause.”
Abigail stared blankly at the wall hearing the confirmation of what Dr. Villanueva suspected.
“You were smart to come in early,” Dr. Villanueva reassured gently. “But I want to be honest with you. This means your window for natural conception is narrowing and more quickly than we’d usually expect at your age.”
Abigail was silent for a long beat.
“So what does that mean for me?” Her voice came out smaller than she meant it to.
“It means you still have options,” the doctor said calmly, her tone professional but kind. “One of them is assisted conception. We can talk about hormone therapy, of course, but if you’re truly considering becoming a mother, we could look into injecting a healthy embryo into your uterus.”
Abigail blinked. “You mean like… someone else’s child?”
“Yes. It’s not uncommon, especially in cases like yours where the ovarian reserve drops early. Your uterus appears healthy enough to carry a pregnancy.”
Abigail’s mouth opened, but no words came out.
“I know it’s a lot to take in,” the doctor continued gently. “This isn’t a decision you need to make today. But if motherhood is something in your heart, I’d advise thinking about it sooner rather than later.”
A long silence stretched between them before Abigail replied.
“Thank you,” Abigail finally whispered. “I’ll… think about it.”
“Of course,” Dr. Villanueva said warmly. “We’ll talk more when you’re ready. You know where my clinic's at.”
And with that, Abby sighed and placed her phone down.
- Writer
