Love at First Sight
Our baby was born earlier than expected. As soon as she was born, they took her to the neonatal intensive care unit (NICU). When we arrived, they explained the procedures: washing our hands for 3 minutes with a special soap, disinfecting our phones, and wearing surgical gowns. Then they took us to see her.
And there she was, inside the incubator, lying on her back, fast asleep. She had several monitors attached to her and a tiny sleep mask covering her eyes. We were told we couldn’t take her out of the incubator, but they did let us reach through a little opening to touch her. Her skin was so soft and delicate.
The nurse explained that even though our baby was born at 32 weeks and 3 days, her lungs were already developed, which was very good news. The rest of her organs were also functioning well. We just needed to wait for her to grow a bit more, gain weight, and finish developing other things, like regulating her temperature and learning how to eat. But the vital parts were okay.
We listened carefully, but truthfully, in that moment, all we could focus on was looking at that tiny girl we had waited for so long. Watching her breathe, seeing how peaceful and real she looked, how beautiful she was.
Between Exhaustion and a Sleepless Heart
We stayed with her for about an hour, then left to rest at the hotel. I remember that night felt endless. Even though it had been an emotional, unforgettable afternoon and I should’ve been exhausted, the excitement kept me awake. I kept tossing and turning, checking the time, wishing morning would come so I could see her again.
In the middle of the sleepless night, I was hit by a wave of unfamiliarity. I realized I had studied adoption thoroughly through books and articles, but I knew nothing about premature babies. So I started researching and learning everything I could about what it meant to have a preemie. I ended up buying a book that would become my go to guide from then on.
A Gift for the Birth Mom
Finally, morning came. We got ready, had breakfast at the hotel buffet, and set off for the hospital. On the way, we stopped at a store to buy a little gift for the birth mom. Once at the hospital, we went straight to see her and give her the gift. She was so happy to see us.
Without wasting time, we went to see the baby so my husband and my mom could spend time with her before they had to leave. As fate would have it, my mother in law had a layover in Miami that day. It was a quick stop on a longer trip. So my husband had to pick her up at the airport so she could meet the baby. My mom had to go back to work, so both of them left me at the hospital and headed home.
I walked them to the parking lot and said goodbye calmly. I had no idea how much I would need them with me that day.
Del estacionamiento, me fui directo al NICU. El hospital tenía una política para el “touch time” de los bebés en cuidados intensivos, después de ese tiempo yo me iba y en los intervalos bajaba a visitar a la mamá biológica.
Bajaba a su habitación y la acompañaba, me sentaba en la silla cerca de la ventana, y estaba ahí con ella por si necesitaba algo. Conversábamos un poco, también vimos televisión… nos hicimos compañía mutuamente.
Eventually, I began to disconnect one experience from the other. I don’t quite know how to explain it. But for me, upstairs was my newborn daughter in an incubator, and downstairs, I was visiting a friend who was hospitalized. That’s how it felt.
My Biggest Fear: That a "No" on Paper Would Outweigh a "Yes" in My Heart
En una de esas subidas al NICU, después de los 3 minutos de lavado de manos, me encontré con una enfermera parada al lado de la incubadora. Enseguida tuve una sensación extraña. Según ella, la bebé tenía rasgos que parecían ser específicos de otra raza, y le estaba tomando fotos para conversar con la trabajadora social del hospital. La raza a la que ella se refería era una de las que, en aquel formulario de aceptación que tanto me costó llenar, había quedado en la columna de “no”. I share more about that [here]
The hospital social worker arrived. The two of them stepped aside to talk. In full panic mode, I stepped out and called our adoption social worker. She answered right away and told me she was on her way. Hearing the stress in my voice, she suggested I take a walk, try to eat something.
I was alone. I didn’t know what to think, my an upset stomach. I started pacing through the hospital, stepped outside to get some air, and a thousand scenarios ran through my mind. All I cared about was being with my baby. Nothing else mattered to me. She was my daughter, no matter what race she was.
Even though I didn’t want to cause alarm, I called my husband, I just needed someone to talk to. Poor thing, two hours away, unable to do much, ended up more confused than I was.
When I finally met with our social worker, they showed me the photos and explained how some of the baby’s features had led to confusion. In the end, it was all a misunderstanding, a very painful, unexpected one.
24 Hours and My Strength Started to Crumble
A few hours later, my husband arrived with my mother in law. I didn’t bring up the misunderstanding. I think my instinct was to let it go. I knew her time with us was short since she was only on a layover. So we went straight to see the baby. After the brief visit, my husband headed back to the airport.
After saying goodbye to them, I stopped by the birth mom’s room and then returned to the NICU. It was time for the doctor’s rounds. As soon as I walked in, I noticed several people around the incubator. I listened carefully and gathered that the baby had developed a minor complication and needed some medical tests.
That was it for me. I couldn’t hold it together anymore. I just sat down, buried my face in my hands, and cried. I didn’t ask questions. And even though they tried to explain things to me, I wasn’t listening, I just cried. The nurse on duty saw how upset I was and tried to comfort me. I told her a bit about how intense the last 24 hours had been. She was moved and managed to get me a room in the hospital where I could shower, lie down, and wait for my husband.
And so I did. I went to the room and finally let myself feel everything I had been holding in. I let it all out.
The Countdown: Adoption Consent
When we woke up the next day, we were informed that the birth mom was scheduled to be discharged. The 48 hour countdown was nearing its end. In theory, she could sign the adoption consent either upon discharge or 48 hours after the birth. The social worker recommended that we stay in the NICU with the baby, and she would call us when the time came.
Nosotros mientras tanto, nos dedicamos a buscar dónde vivir por un mes ya que nuestra casa quedaba a 2 horas del hospital, y dejar a la bebé sola en el hospital simplemente no era una opción para nosotros. Por suerte, encontramos una casita justo a la vuelta del hospital. Ya solo quedaba ir a recoger nuestras cosas… y a nuestra perrita.
The clock felt like it had stopped. Even though we had our own paperwork to handle, the hours dragged by. Finally, that night, the social worker called. She told us the birth mom had signed the adoption consent.
There were still post placement visits and a court hearing to come, but that day we were granted temporary custody of our daughter. Legally, it was the first big step for our family.
The Love for This Baby Crossed Our Paths, and Also Said Goodbye
Once we signed the documents, we went to say goodbye to the birth mom. We talked for a while about our plans for the future, how we would care for the baby, and our dreams for her. We promised that she would always know where she came from and about the love her birth mom had for her. We hugged and said goodbye.
I didn’t see her leave. We left the room to visit the baby, and when we left the NICU, I looked for her, hoping to give her a silent goodbye from a distance. But it didn’t happen. I haven’t seen her since that day.
That night 48 hours later, we left the hospital with a mix of happiness, hope, and uncertainty about what was to come, because the story didn’t end there… a new chapter had just begun, where every gram gained was a cause for celebration: life in the NICU.
Grateful to have you here, heart to heart.
Melli
