My Mom Called Asking When I Was Coming Back for the Baby Until I Realized Mine Was Already With Me

in December. I had left that crib in my mother’s attic in January.

Someone had brought it down.

Inside it lay a baby girl. Dark lashes, round cheeks, one arm thrown over her head in the total abandon of deep sleep. A pacifier near her shoulder, a pink blanket tucked around her waist.

Then I saw the sleeper.

Yellow with tiny embroidered daisies.

My stomach continue reading …