In the past year, we had been through what seemed like a nightmare.  We had lost 7 pregnancies.

We passed through the threshold of the hospital and into the sterile foyer.  My emotional state began to tilt towards anxiety and dread.   The ups and downs of the multiple miscarriages led me to expect the worst.

Our social worker led us through the maze of dependent newborns to our little man’s incubator.  I remember staring at him for the first time as if I was watching myself on film.

Adoption is beautiful, but it is at the same time so tragic.  In order for my family to grow here on earth, a broken woman would have to suffer.  She would have to say goodbye to a baby whom she had carried for 9 months.

Nothing could have prepared me for what we were about to experience those next 36 hours.

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