My daughter has eyes like mine-big and brown with a tiny ring of green around the pupil. She has my nose. I’m glad. My husband’s nose would be too big for her little face. Her full lips and darker complexion come from her dad. She watches me, and smiles. Dimples puncture her round cheeks. “I love you.” I tell her, and kiss her golden brown curls. She giggles. I smell baby shampoo. I open my eyes. I look back at my computer monitor. In the cubicle across from me, Courtney rubs her baby bump tenderly. Infertility is a bitch.