After ten years of infertility, my husband sent eight children

When I was eighteen, I plunged into a frozen river to save my childhood sweetheart, Declan Thorne, a talented swimmer. I got severe frostbite, damaging my uterus.

The doctors told me I’d been in the ice too long, sustained severe damage that would make having children incredibly difficult.

Declan knelt by my hospital bed, swearing to cherish me forever, even if we never had kids. And just like that, he pampered me, making me the city's most privileged elite.

This year, at thirty-two, marked our tenth wedding anniversary, a decade we’d built side by side.