Avery has me under a spell from which I never want to escape. A touch of her softer than silk fingertips upon my bare leg,a throaty “Maw-mee” from across the room,or the koala clench she wields at goodnight, each brings me to my knee in its own way. I tremble as I remember the time before she was born, the doubt that would hover around me, seeping into my bones like a damp October morning. I never wished her not to be, but I often wished for more time. A little more with one child. A little more with Briar. A little more time to prepare. Here on the other side of worry and wait, I find that she is more. As Briar was…