Invisible String

14

Tears blurred my vision as I whispered, “I just… I thought we were done fighting already. I’d waited so long, believed so hard.”

Travis stepped in, his voice steady but raw. “We’re not giving up on our daughter, Taylor. We’re going to meet with the legal team and see exactly what this means. I promise you, we’ll fight for her.”

In that moment, I looked around at the familiar faces—our support system, our family, our truth—and felt a renewed determination. Yes, this was a blow. Yes, it hurt more than I thought possible. But I realized that our love for Mira wasn’t contingent on a perfect process. We’d spent years dreaming, grieving, and finally embracing the chaos. We weren’t about to let this twist erase every bit of hope we’d built.

“Okay,” I said, voice cracking but resolute. “Let’s do this. I’m ready to fight for her.”

Kylie squeezed my hand and Mom nodded firmly. Travis pulled me aside for a quick, silent embrace, and I could feel his steady heartbeat through his sweater—a reminder that in this storm, we still had each other.

That night, as I lay awake long after the family had left to make calls and schedule a meeting with our lawyer, I whispered into the darkness, “Mira, you’re mine, no matter what they say.” And somehow, that promise soothed me enough to finally let sleep find me again.

---

I stared at the ceiling in the dark, Mira nestled on my chest, her tiny breaths rising and falling in rhythm with mine. My mind wouldn’t stop spinning. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw that bassinet in the hospital room—the first time I picked her up, the first time someone called her ours. The first time I felt like a mom.

Travis was sitting beside me, arms draped over his knees, hunched forward in a way that made him look like the weight of it all was sitting on his back. “She’s ours,” he said again, like a mantra. “We’ve had her for three months. We’ve been her parents since the second she took her first breath.”

“I thought she signed months ago,” I said, my voice quiet but sharp, filled with something close to betrayal. “Isn’t this… illegal?”

Travis looked over at me, his expression twisted with anger and confusion. “I don’t get it either. They told us the paperwork was done. Finalization was in process. What else is there?”

My heart thudded painfully in my chest. I wanted to believe it was all just a misunderstanding—some procedural thing—but my gut told me otherwise. “She changed her mind,” I whispered, unable to keep the bitterness from creeping into my voice. “She didn’t want to get attached, and now maybe she is.”

Travis shook his head. “But she didn’t even hold her. She didn’t see her. That was the deal, remember? She wanted a closed adoption. She said she couldn’t—wouldn’t—be involved.”

“I know,” I said, swallowing hard. “But people change their minds.”

He stood and paced, clearly trying to stay calm, his hands running through his hair like they always did when he was spiraling. “I don’t care what changed. She made a choice. We were there from day one. We’ve done everything. We didn’t just show up—we showed up and stayed.”

I looked down at Mira, now asleep against my skin. I brushed a soft curl from her cheek. “What if the courts don’t see it that way?”

He stopped pacing. “Then we remind them. Every night we’ve been up with her, every doctor’s visit, every ounce of donated milk you pumped through that little tube because you wanted to bond with her. Every photo, every laugh, every late-night rock, every tear. She's ours.”