Was love holding on or letting go?
The baby was sleeping in a cradle, flush against my bed. I could easily reach in and feel her tiny chest, rising and falling with each breath.
Up until that night, the bassinet had been in the corner, an extra piece of furniture filled with running gear and laundry. Now, it held an infant, just two days old. I tried to sleep, but my mind was jumbled with questions. I plugged the straightforward ones into Google: How much formula do newborns eat? What happens to the umbilical cord? Other questions weren’t so PART THREE OF THREE A REPORTER’S JOURNEY TO MOTHERHOOD easy: Could this really be happening? Was it possible my husband and I might be able to adopt this beautiful baby girl? And what if this whole thing was just a big mistake? I stared at her for hours that night. She had a tiny mouth like a rosebud, dark eyes she barely kept open, soft brown skin and a head full of curly black hair.
Across the hall, our 2-and-a-half-year-old foster soncried out from a nightmare. As I walked into his room, the infant in my arms, he looked incredulously at me and asked, “Baby?”
She was just coming into our lives. And our foster son, after being with us for more than half of his life,
Up until that night, the bassinet had been in the corner, an extra piece of furniture filled with running gear and laundry. Now, it held an infant, just two days old. I tried to sleep, but my mind was jumbled with questions. I plugged the straightforward ones into Google: How much formula do newborns eat? What happens to the umbilical cord? Other questions weren’t so PART THREE OF THREE A REPORTER’S JOURNEY TO MOTHERHOOD easy: Could this really be happening? Was it possible my husband and I might be able to adopt this beautiful baby girl? And what if this whole thing was just a big mistake? I stared at her for hours that night. She had a tiny mouth like a rosebud, dark eyes she barely kept open, soft brown skin and a head full of curly black hair.
Across the hall, our 2-and-a-half-year-old foster soncried out from a nightmare. As I walked into his room, the infant in my arms, he looked incredulously at me and asked, “Baby?”
She was just coming into our lives. And our foster son, after being with us for more than half of his life,
PREVIOUS ARTICLE
