For years, I’d look at a little bundle of joy, and feel that pang of want.
The emotional sensation of yearning, and love, mixed with a tightness in my heart, and tears welling up behind my eyes.
Except for today
I look at her, small, dark-haired, perfect fingers and toes, sleepy milk induced smile on her lips.
I feel nothing.
Not joy, not love, not a tightness in my chest, or tears behind my eyes,
For my little wolf, safely asleep inside my womb.