I wanted to be a mother more than anything else. For years, that desire shaped every hope, every plan, every quiet prayer. I just never imagined that, seventeen years later, a single sentence from my adopted daughter would leave me questioning whether she believed she truly belonged.
I remember sitting in my car outside the fertility clinic, gripping the steering wheel as a woman walked past me holding an ultrasound photo. She looked radiant, like someone who had just been handed a miracle. I watched her disappear down the sidewalk while something inside me felt hollowed out. I didn’t even have the energy to cry anymore. Continue reading…
