I watch new pages falling open in front of me with curiosity
My story shifting from “we can’t have more” to “we have chosen to have one”

And I wonder if soon, I’ll be able to say these new, cumbersome words aloud
To the curious minds who can’t comprehend
How we could possibly choose
To have only one

I wonder if I’ll be able to say these new words
Without the qualifiers that have been so deeply embedded
Into my story, and our story

We have chosen to have one
I practice over and over again in my mind
Trying it on for size
Seeing where it fits and where it falters

The words still don’t feel quite right as I chew on them and spit them out (will they ever?)
But, for the first time, they also don’t feel entirely wrong

Somebody asked recently
If she’s more of a daddy’s girl or a mama’s girl
I responded the only way I knew how–

She is ours and we are both hers
My only, our only

We have built this family
And this life
Into something I cherish
Not only in the rearview mirror
But in each present moment

My only, our only