What was I going to do? What was I going to wear? What was I going to say? All these questions kept swirling around in my head. I knew that if I wore the wrong clothes, they wouldn't want to adopt Ryan, so I tried on 57 outfits. I knew that if I said the wrong thing, they wouldn't want to adopt Ryan. If my hair wasn't right, they wouldn't want to adopt Ryan. I was so scared I could hardly breathe.
Mom had made me make an appointment with a psychologist and I had started taking antidepressants, and my depression was lifting some, but I was still in constant terror and cried most of the time.
When the day finally came Mom drove me to the agency and I sat there waiting for R. and J. to come. Was I early, or were they late? Maybe they changed their minds, why would they be late if they really wanted to adopt my baby? Something was wrong. Come to find out, the agency asked me to arrive before them so I could chat with them for a while before the prospective adoptive parents arrived.
Finally they came and we introduced ourselves. They were so sweet, and not a lot older than I. They seemed so in love. R. was very quiet and soft spoken, but when he did speak it was always worth listening to. J. was more like me, she liked to talk and we hit it off immediately. Soon I was sure that I wanted them to raise Ryan, I knew that they would be wonderful parents. After a while one of the agency staff asked me if I wanted the foster mom to bring Ryan and I agreed.
When he showed up, he had changed so much in the two weeks since I had seen him last. I didn't look at R., but when J. saw him I saw the love in her eyes. She already loved him so much, I was certain that this was the right decision. Everyone held him for a while and we talked and talked.
At one point Sandy pulled me to the side and asked me what I thought of R. and J. and I told her that they were definitely Ryan's parents.
We told them that if they wanted to that they adoption would proceed and J. teared up. I was holding Ryan and just then he started fussing and crying. I looked at R. and said "here Daddy, you need practice", and handed him the baby. No sooner did he take Ryan and he stopped crying. It was awesome.
The paper work would be finished the following day, and they asked me if it was ok for them to take him to the hotel with them for the night. I agreed, and kissed my little man goodbye. My mom gave him a beautiful quilt and some other items she got for him and I gave him the baptismal gown that his cousins had been baptized in.
It was a strange moment, I felt such happiness, but I also felt this horrible emptiness in my heart. I smiled on the outside, but on the inside it felt as though someone was ripping out my soul.
Ryan was exactly one month old, and R. and J. gave me two wonderful things. First, a photo album that they promised to fill up, which they have, and their address, so I could always be in contact with them. That was wonderful. I was giving them the most precious thing in my life and they gave me the promise that he would always be in my life.
When I walked away that day, it would be six months before I saw him again in person.
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