Chapter: Oneshot
Disclaimer: I don't own House M.D. or its characters. They belong to Fox and David Shore. I make no money from this.
Author's Note: I wrote this, embarrassingly, through bouts of tears as I channeled some of my own maternal feelings through Cuddy. I blame the full moon for this fic.

I dreamt about you. As mine. I wanted you so much and I dreamt about you. You may think it's out of line or that I don't even deserve to think of you that way, but... just because I've wanted this later in life, does it mean I don't deserve it? Just because I didn't jump on the baby bandwagon sooner?

I guess you could say I never had the maternal instinct. I wanted to be one of the boys, to be like my father. If you wanted someone to take care of your baby doll, it would have been my sister. I wore pants whenever I could get away with it and I read all the time. I wanted the knowledge, not the apron.

And I stayed that way. That was, until, I realized there was something missing in my life. It wasn't necessarily love of a partnership. I had love, I had been in love, and this yearning was different. A man would've been nice, a bit complicated, but I was searching for something else. I was searching for you.

I tried. I tried so hard to get you. I put myself out there time and time again only to be disappointed. I felt the world was punishing me for never actually wanting you when I was little girl like all the other little girls had.

That's when I gave up on you because you weren't coming to me and even trying to meet you halfway wasn't enough. I still longed for you, but I told myself that this was better. That I never deserved you.

But, I found I couldn't get you out of my head. I still dreamt about you. I still wanted you. I knew, deep down, that I could be that person I never imagined myself becoming. I knew I could care for you. I knew I could love you if only I could have you.

So, I took another step. I talked to an adoption agency. I was screened, I was interviewed, I gave references, and it was grueling. I thought that maybe again, I wasn't good enough. But, I was approved and it seemed like I was going to get you.

Then, I didn't.

I had hope, Joy, but it didn't last very long at all and I was again alone. I was, again, giving up because I had what I wanted and it was taken from me. The biggest slap in the face of all.

I was told it happened, that disappointment unfortunately occurred on the road to adopting, that mothers always had the choice to keep their child once the baby was born. But, I was so close and it hurt too much.

I gave up. Again. My life felt barren. I felt barren. A woman that would never know how it was to care for a child. I began trying to figure out what I would do with my life, how I would fill that void. It was like a midlife crisis.

But, I pressed myself forward and I continued with my work and I tried not to think about how much I wanted you. About how close I had you, only to be forced to forget about it, as if it never happened.

Then, that young girl came into the hospital. God, she just wanted to fit in and be accepted. I felt for her, I understood. And then I found out about her baby, this child that was now dying had a tiny baby that she didn't get to care for, to bury. I felt this innate sense to help.

And I found that baby alive by some miracle and I brought her to her mother. But, no one wanted the baby and I stepped in. And the baby became mine. For a short time anyway. Until Natalie's parents wanted the baby, wanting a piece of their daughter back and I had to comply. I understood, but it was another blow. I think I loved too fast.

By now, I felt wrecked. Physically and emotionally. That nursery room was empty again after a beautiful baby girl had lived there. I was alone with an empty nursery and dirty towels with milk spit up on them in the laundry room. It was unfair. Or maybe fair. Because I felt that maybe I really truly didn't deserve you.

I became somewhat irresponsible. As much as I wanted to keep my head held high, to force myself to continue on as if I was okay, I couldn't. I searched for ways to console the pain from losing all I wanted over and over again. I felt I failed you and I was paying for it.

That's when I started a whirlwind of a relationship. It did not end well and I regretted the three months it took me to finally end the monstrosity of a relationship I put myself in. What I was doing to myself felt completely detrimental. Until three months later when I was lying in a doctor's office being told I was pregnant.

I didn't believe it. I mean, it crossed my mind, but I wouldn't let myself get my hopes up about you. Not after all I had lost in the past. I had been trying for years for you and it seemed completely ridiculous and, of course, ironic that when I stopped trying, you appeared.

When I finally did believe it, I still tried not to get my hopes up. I was worried that if I did, I'd lose you. I didn't feel I was strong enough to suffer another loss.

The weeks passed and you grew. You were inside of me, growing strong, everything looked well. The weeks turned into months and I eventually was put on bed rest, which was fine with me because suddenly it was real and it was happening and you were going to be born soon.

It was September third when you were born and when I held you for the first time, I cried so hard because you were mine. No one was going to take you from me, they couldn't. You were biologically mine to keep.

I cared for you the very moment I dreamt of you and I loved you the very moment I saw you.