But that day, he cried because a part of the family he thought had been lost forever was finally sitting in front of him.
Three months later, Emily went into labor.
I was in the waiting room when her adoptive mother called to tell me that the baby had arrived.
It was a girl.
Healthy, beautiful, and loud enough to make everyone laugh.
Emily named her Mary.
When I entered the room, she was holding the baby against her chest.
Her face was exhausted, but she was smiling.
“Come and meet your niece,” she whispered.
I approached the bed and looked at the tiny face.
“She’s beautiful.”
Emily smiled.
“I wish our mother could see her.”
I gently touched the baby’s little hand.
“Maybe she can, in some way.”
Three weeks later, I gave birth to my son, Noah.
The delivery was difficult, and I was exhausted.
But the moment they placed him in my arms, everything else disappeared.
