I’m participating in the latest Adoption Carnival.
So the way our adoption went was this; I told Ruth, Nora, and the agency that after the birth, I wanted a day alone with Cricket and Mr. Book. Then we’d sign over custody, then TPR—but first I wanted a day. The agency tried to talk me out of it, but I was firm, and so after I’d given birth, we drove away from the birthing center and went to a hotel. I had hoped not to sleep at all, so that I wouldn’t miss any of my time with Cricket, but I’d been in labor for three days and did end up dozing off for a few hours. Ruth and Nora were in the same hotel, just in case we decided that we didn’t want to stay sequestered with the little elf. It was both a magical time and incredibly sad—nothing extraordinary happened, but we parented. My mother came to see us, bringing Indian food, and held her first grandchild. I’m not sure I’ve ever seen her so happy. I breastfed and changed diapers; Mr. Book held Cricket and talked to him about the Kinks. And we took pictures.
I had packed two disposable cameras in my birth bag and a few baby outfits; we changed his clothes a couple of times and took as many pictures as we could. I look the worst I ever have, naturally, but the photos are incredibly precious to me. I didn’t want to give copies to Ruth and Nora—I wanted to have something of Cricket that was just ours—and then I realized that I was being immature, and we gave them copies. I don’t know whether those pictures are important to them, but it was important to us to give them.
I’ll post a couple of my favorites in a separate, protected post—email me if you want the password.