One evening in October 2007, as my husband and I were having dinner at a nice restaurant, he tearfully admitted that he was ambivalent about our marriage. I was shocked. We had been married for fifteen years. We prayed the Rosary together frequently. We went to Mass together. We went to Medjugorje three times. We made our Cursillo together. People told us they were inspired by us and thought we were an example of a happy marriage.
Five months later, my husband had moved out with all his belongings. He wanted a divorce, he told me, because “I want to have babies.” I...
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