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Teresa met us back at our house about 15 minutes after I hung up the phone. The funny thing about all this is, we technically hadn't finished our application process. The paperwork was done and approved, but there's a series of interviews and home inspections called a "Home Study" that has to be performed before a couple can be considered for adoption. But fate kind of shoved the cart before the horse in our case...
Teresa explained to us that Ashley had already chosen another adoptive family. This family was so excited for their baby to be born! They were all ready to go, were even at the hospital during labor and delivery. And then he was born. And he was beautiful, and he was perfect. And he was everything they had hoped for. And still they pulled Teresa aside and said, "We can't believe we're telling you this. And we have absolutely no reason at all. We just know this isn't our baby." They left the hospital heart broken. In tears. And Ashley was left devastated and helpless. What was she supposed to do now?
Teresa racked her brain for options to give to Ashley. We immediately popped into her head. But she shoved the thought aside. "They're not done" she told herself over and over as we kept coming to mind. Finally she had decided. "Kenna and Steve: NO for sure." And then five minutes later, another social worker whom we had never met, walked up to her and said, "I think you should consider telling Ashley about Kenna and Steve." Teresa said she initially snapped back at her, "No. They’re not. Done." But no matter how she went about it, she always came back around to us.
That first couple at the hospital had no idea why they had to do what they did. But as Teresa told us how things had gone down the day before, we knew why. And as courageous and humiliating as it must have been for that other couple to back out of something they had been looking forward to for months, we knew they were right. This baby wasn’t meant to be theirs. Call it what you like. Fate, destiny, following Heaven’s clues, there was no doubt in our minds – that sweet, tiny, perfect little being we met the night before was ours, and he was ours before we even knew he existed.
It took approximately 17 hours to complete our Home Study with our social worker. And by 17 hours, I mean 4. As soon as we finished, we were able to go back to the hospital to meet that beautiful boy again – this time, as his parents.
We arrived at the hospital just in time to see Ashley once again. She spent about 20 minutes alone with her son and then hugged us both good bye before checking out of the hospital to fly home to her family. As I held her, I whispered “Thank you” into her ear. Words were never so inadequate. I cried as I watched that intrepid young woman walk down the hall, leaving us with her heart; her hope.
It was hard to watch her leave, not really knowing who she was, yet possessing a part of her. I knew she would never be able to understand the great love I had for her. I ached for her. But at the same time, my heart galloped with joy. This was my son! And this time, when I lifted him into my arms, I knew him. I really knew him. I felt his peaceful soul, and it wrapped its adoring arms around my heart.
Me with Carter in the waiting room of the hospital. Because I wasn't a hospital patient like most moms are, I didn't have a room. Carter spent 3 nights in the hospital because of jaundice, so we slept on the couch in the waiting room, and that's where the nurses brought him to be fed during the night. A few of the nurses didn't really "get it". I had to throw a fit a couple of times, pounding on the nursery window and showing them my bracelet and shouting "My baby's in there too" through the glass. For some reason some of them didn't understand why I wanted to feed him. Get. A. Clue, people.
We called them Carter burritos, and they were the best tasting in all the land.
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