I wanted to be a mother more than anything.
Not “someday.” Not “if it happens.”
I mean the kind of wanting that rearranges your entire life around a hope you can’t stop reaching for.
For years, all I had was loss.
Clinic waiting rooms.
Ultrasound photos that weren’t mine.
And the silent, humiliating feeling of watching other women walk out glowing while I sat in my car, empty.
At my lowest point, I made a promise to God.
And I kept it.
But seventeen years later… my adopted daughter looked at me with red eyes and said something I’ll never forget.
