She gave me a small, supportive nod. No anger. No accusation. Just love. Then she quietly walked back to the waiting room.
While I was chasing the status of a biological mother, I had pushed away the only woman who had ever truly known how to be one.
Now I’m here, holding these two perfect lives, and I feel so unwell. Not physically—though I am exhausted—but deep in my soul. I traded unconditional love for a fantasy. I hurt the person who never once hurt me.
And for the first time since becoming a mother myself, I finally understand what Eva must have felt all those years: loving someone enough to step aside, even when it breaks your heart.
