?What kind of milk do you want"? the young woman?s voice asked through the Starbucks drive-through intercom.
I glanced at the list of substitutes on the menu.
?I?don?t know,? I replied, choking back tears.
?Let?s just go with regular milk, then"? the intercom voice softened.
By the time I got to the window, I had thankfully pulled myself together after a quick but loud sobbing session. The girl at the window offered me my coffee silently, with a warm smile.
As you may have guessed, the Alt Milk Incident, which took place several months ago, wasn?t really about alt milk. Instead, it was the culmination of six months of me stressing over a life decision that was increasingly seeming impossible to make.
With a four-year-old and two-year-old at home, and my 30s coming to an end, my window to try for a third child was rapidly narrowing, while my indecisiveness was exponentially growing. This wasn?t a decision I even expected to be considering at this point in my life.
I was sure I was done having kids…until I wasn’t

After undergoing years of exhausting IVF cycles, the tacit agreement I had with myself was that after my second baby was born two and a half years ago, I would feel definitively ?done.?
But, as it happens?that didn?t happen.
As my husband enthusiastically talked about moving past the baby phase of our lives, I nodded along but somewhere inside me, there was a seed of hope that I would hold a tiny newborn on my chest once again.
Over the past y...