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“Mommy,” she whispered, “do you remember you sang me this song after my operation?”

It was a beautiful wedding, it really was. So what’s this pit in my stomach? Why are my eyes blurring?

You are there when I’m asked how many children I have, and I hesitate before I answer

The furniture was old, not old enough for vintage charm, just old, but it meant summer to us

For all my logical assurances that this pain has no place in my life, the ache persists

 “You’ll see,” she said in a soft, melodic voice. “This will be motherhood, just a different kind”