Mother Today, I told her the truth. It was her 18 th birthday. She was old enough, wise enough, smart enough, and mature enough. Today, I told my daughter that I couldn’t conceive a child, and that she came from someone else. I told her that she is beautiful, she is amazing, I love her like I carried her, maybe even more, but she came from somewhere else. I haven’t seen her face fall as it did today. But that look, I would never forget it. It was the truth, and a necessity, a pain and a blessing. “Why don’t I have hair like yours and a nose like daddy’s?” The 10 year old girl had asked me. She was referring to the torrent of crazy curls that rose from my head, and the long pointed nose that was her dad’s. What lies I had told her while I had brushed her long straight hair. We gave her everything. We always wanted what was best for her. So, today, I told her; Remembering the first time I had held her, having glimpsed her birth mother’s longing to hold her child. We had closed...