my dark curls or her father’s smile.
I imagined brushing her hair in the mornings and hearing her call me Mommy.
But those were only dreams.
Eventually, I returned to work.
I attended family gatherings.
I learned to smile when friends announced their pregnancies.
From the outside, I seemed to be moving forward.
Inside, part of me remained in that hospital room.
I never found the courage to try having another child.
The possibility of experiencing the same loss again frightened me too much.
Through those difficult years, my younger
