Seven months pregnant at the time, a mom recalls the moment her internationally adopted daughter arrived home.
by Leah Van Divner
My daughter didn’t arrive as an eight-month-old bundle of joy, lovingly handed over to me by a smiling adoption worker, nor did we witness her entrance into the world, after receiving a call that the birth mother was in labor. I’d chosen an arrival different from these scenarios, yet I was in no way prepared. Oh, her room was ready; I was on leave from work; drawers were full of clothes and shelves packed with toys. But it wasn’t until that moment, when I looked at her through the glass of the airport arrival gate, snuggled tightly in my husband’s arms, that I knew what all the preparation had been for…
Comments (2)