When I suggested adoption, she was hesitant.
“What if I can’t love a child who isn’t mine?” she’d asked.
I suggested adoption.
I told her love wasn’t something a blood test could measure.
Eventually, she and Tom began the process.
Two weeks before Nora appeared at my door, Ellie’s adoption had been finalized and she came home with Nora and Tom. Nora called me six times that first day.
Love wasn’t something a blood test could measure.
She wanted to know whether five-year-olds should still nap, how to get paint out of clothes, and whether it was normal for Ellie to ask the same question repeatedly.
I’d wanted that happiness for her more than anything.
Especially after losing my own daughter.
I’d wanted that happiness for her.
Five years earlier, I’d given birth to a little girl.
She was premature and needed immediate medical attention.