Her demeanor was the first signal. The way she averted her eyes when I looked in her direction. Then, as we walked past her on our way out of church and my husband bid a friendly goodbye, her silence confirmed it—she was upset.

My husband and I make it a point to always kiss each other goodbye before we go our separate ways. At the front door, when he leaves for work and I'm holding a crying baby in one arm and a clingy toddler in the other—no matter what the circumstance—we kiss each other goodbye.

The questions themselves were good, but I realized something was off the day my pastor preached about how we needed to step up as parents, and I left service wrecked with a heavy sense of guilt. You see, I don’t have kids.