Love, Amelia

Epilogue

One year later

Neither of us had really wanted to be Mother's in the beginning; but somehow, someway, we'd come to the conclusion that we did, in fact, want a baby.

We'd opted for adoption because neither of us particularly wanted to carry. We wanted a baby, but we didn't want to be pregnant.

Of course, it took months of waiting, months of homestudies and social workers, and paper work. The paper work was unreal; it felt like we were buying a house and not adopting a baby.

Seven months into our journey, we were told they were officially eligible to be chosen by a birth mother; we were paper-pregnant. All we had to wait for was a Mother to decide that we were worthy of raising her baby.

It was a nerve-wracking process that we were told could take years to find us a baby. And as much as I wanted a baby, I also felt guilty for what I was doing.

Day in, day out, I waited by my phone for a woman to decide her child, the one she'd grown in her body and given birth to, would be better off with me. A complete stranger with a couple fancy degrees and a hot wife.

A month went by, and then two, and every single time the phone rang, I jumped.

By the third month, I'd accepted the fact that this would probably take several months, Rome wasn't built in a day, and babies aren't grown in a day. After all, we were waiting not only for a woman to decide she didn't want her baby, but we were also waiting for her to pick us out of all her other potential options.

Surprisingly, that's when I got the call; three and a half months after we'd been approved.

"We've got a woman here, she wants to sign over all rights and have a closed adoption. She doesn't want to know you guys, or know the baby's name" the social worker said "she's picked you though, she picked your file out of the sixty she went through"

My heart soared; I nearly dropped the phone out of excitement. We would finally be taking home a baby, after what felt like forever, and I couldn't have been more ecstatic.

But there was also the part of me that thought of the birth Mother; the woman who was choosing us to raise her child as our own. Adoption was born out of loss, so while Arizona and I would be gaining a child, another Mother was also losing one.

But nonetheless, I was determined. This baby was ours; it was meant to be.

"We'll be there in half an hour"

~

The second we met our daughter, I fell in love. A nurse brought us to her in the nursery, and we got to hold her for the very first time. She was barely three hours old.

"She was born at 5:02 pm, and she weighed five pounds, two ounces. She's barely nineteen inches long, but she's tough. Got a good grip" the nurse winked, as I held my tiny little daughter with amazement and love in my eyes.

"Her Mother was only fifteen, didn't know what to do" the nurse tells us, as we marvel over the baby "We had our social worker provide her with potential adoptive families and she chose yours; she said you looked like you really loved each other, and bless her soul, she said she wanted that kind of love for her baby too"