Proof The Bible Is True

My husband found me sitting in a puddle of half a dozen broken eggs on the kitchen floor. “What happened?” he asked.

“I dropped them,” I said, sobbing. “Can’t you see?”

Todd threw up his hands. He’d tried to understand me, but he couldn’t. Six months pregnant, I overreacted to everything, sometimes bursting into tears for no apparent reason.

Todd and I had been high school sweethearts, and we were happy about our first baby, but we were only 20 years old. It was all too new and overwhelming. We both had full-time jobs, and Todd often worked late, so I was frequently at home alone. I’d always been a bit of a worrywart, and my pregnancy had increased my anxiety to the point of lunacy. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t seem to help it.

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