Chapter 1

She just started Kindergarten, my little girl with bouncy brown curls skipped away with not a glance back.  Confidence.  That is what I like to call it.  A self assurance that comes from the four short years of trial and error, realizing a fall is not a disaster, but an opportunity to rise again.  With this thought I convince my brain that it is a good sign, hoping my heart will be soon to follow.  In bleak honesty, I want her to turn back, run to me with little arms spread wide, desperately seeking the solace of my embrace.  I want her to want me, as I desperately ache for her. 

        In moments like these I think of Pam. At the end of the day I am the one who gets to pick Naomi up, hear of all her adventures, smothered with the hugs and kisses of time gone by.  I will play and read with her, feel the trust of her warm body nestled in the crux of my arm.  Bath time will be filled with vivid imagination of animals swimming, jumping, dancing despite their apparent non-aptitude for such things. And bedtime will consist of pink pajamas softly caressing her soft, lotioned skin. 

          “Carry me Mommy!” she jumps with reckless abandon into my arms, bringing her face into close contact with mine, until two eyes appear as only one.  We embrace and walk down the hallway towards her room filled with flowers, white accents, and doll houses. Tucking her into bed, her big brown eyes smiling, hardly containing the joy of anticipation within.  One last neck hug, her arms wrapped tightly around, and soft kisses on my cheek, I return the affection.  “Sweet Dreams,” I whisper, turning to leave.  “See you in the morning!” she bellows, not ready to let the day go. 

          Five years ago, it was all a dream for me, one that I hardly allowed myself to hope for.  It was made of fantasy and desire, both of which I had no power over.  And so I thought of what might be if the world worked for my favor. My family was not complete, my heart not yet filled to capacity. I yearned for one more…