He swallowed hard, his eyes searching my face with a frightening mix of innocence and despair.

“So does that mean you’re not my real mom?” he asked, and the question cut straight through my heart like a serrated knife.

“I am your real mom, Austin, with every single beat of my heart,” I said, my voice thick with tears I was holding back.

“I adopted you when you were just a tiny baby, and even though you didn’t grow in my belly, you grew in my heart, and you are my real son, forever.”

“Then whose belly was I in?” he asked in a small, curious voice.