I'm talking with my 4 year old about her auntie, my sister, whose baby is due any day now, and I tell her the baby is coming soon and even though we have talked about this before, she asks me if I have a baby growing in my belly too and when I tell her no she asks who did grow in my belly, and I list off the names of her four oldest siblings, and though she has asked me this before and knows the answer, she again asks me if she grew in my belly, and when I gently remind her that she grew inside her Ethiopian mom, she is suddenly and dramatically sobbing her heart out, flinging her long-legged 42 pound self against my chest where I cradle her close to my heart and tell her I love her and that I'm sorry and I wish it too, that I would have loved to have known her since her first breath and seen the beautiful infant she doubtless was, but that her birthmom loved her and hugged her and cherished her, and God watched over her and guarded her well on her journey to me, and my words feel weak and futile against the storm of emotion, but I keep petting and hugging and murmuring my love, and just when I think she may never stop sobbing, she sits up with a rainy smile and asks me if I want to play Candyland, and blinking I gratefully say yes, glad that we made it through this round of processing her loss, hoping desperately that when this comes up next my comforting arms will once more be enough to get her through.

My precious girl.