"This particular child of mine, content with waving a fat, little wrist at fellow shoppers, was my daughter in every sense of the word from the very beginning. I held her for the first time at four months old to the day. I kissed her belly and watched her breathe in her sleep. She was my daughter in every sense…except for legally, of course. It was a strange place to stand, one foot on either side of a dividing line. One heart— split—as if it couldn’t reside in the same chest. I couldn’t reconcile why she felt like my forever child, yet on paper and according to the court, this child was destined to go home. And I couldn’t reconcile wanting to keep this child while, at the same time, loving the birth mother and wanting her to succeed? What to do? What to think? What to pray?"