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  • On August 15, 2008 I participated in a Child Placement Review Board call about my then foster daughter. She had already been with us for almost a year, since she was just 3 days old. They kept referring to her as "the baby". This is the poem I wrote after that call:

    Its lonely here
    and frightening.
    Things are going well, I hear-
    Just going through the motions.
    But this feels like more than
    the "what ifs",
    its always there
    in every new expression,
    new sound,
    new stage she reaches,
    my baby.
    My baby-
    how could anyone ever think she is not
    MY baby?
    I hold her-
    her dreams,
    her fears,
    She is mine-
    My Mia.
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