Do You Want Her?

She was cute. That's what I thought from the second she walked in with her white and red polka-dotted dress. She was also really afraid. It took a lot of coaxing and reassurance just to walk her through the normal admittance procedure. If I'd had to guess, I would've said it was her first, but she already has a little girl. She was just so.... lost. She latched on to me pretty quickly, and thereafter never let me leave her side.

Her support person was her sister in law. A bundle of giggles, I'm not sure how much support she really was. Her interest was piqued when she found out that we had milk and Milo for the patients. She lost no time in preparing one for the patient, and another for herself. And she giggled. Really, she giggled through the whole thing. Even amidst the intensity of the baby's very emergence, she was falling off her chair in giggles and snorts. Not much help, it seemed.

But where was the husband? The father of this baby? He's not around anymore. He's gone. So when she pulled me over and had me squat down so that I was the right height for support, I knew I was all she had. I didn't scold her when she wrapped her arms around my neck and gripped tightly with the pain. I had become more than just a set of hands to welcome her baby. We prayed and we breathed and then it was time.

Nothing else existed in the moment of birth. Not the sister-in-law who was falling off her chair in giggles nearby, not the extra hands that came to help, and not the baby initiating her vocal cords in the next bed. She responded to my words of comfort and my encouragement to relax and let go of her fear. Our eyes locked, and we worked together to get that tiny girl safely into the world. A deep, deep sigh, and her head laid back and her eyes closed. Her hands found the new little one placed on her belly.

The nose was too flat. Momma kept pinching it. She told me she wanted her baby's nose to be tall like mine, so she kept pinching it. The upside is, baby just survived birth and seemed not to notice the small discomfort that was nasal reshaping therapy. I admired her baby's beauty as I began the newborn exam.

"Do you want her?"

My eyes darted to the mother's face, trying to reassure my quickening pulse that she was teasing.

"Do you want her? You can adopt her."

Her face was serious, and her sister-in-law repeated the question. I wasn't sure if I should feel flattered, horrified, or just heartbroken. And although reason tried to quell it, something deep inside me was screaming "Yes, yes, yes, YES!". Because she was precious and beautiful and I DO want a baby. Something wanted to treasure this tiny soul as she deserves to be treasured and that same something recoiled from the thought of a mother so willing to part with her new daughter.

"But she's yours, and she's perfect and she's beautiful."

"No, you can have her. You can take her to America and she can be yours."

In the absence of proper words, I defaulted to my nervous giggle. Act like its a joke. We finished up the exam and I focused on helping Momma and baby bond. Little girl was carefully cared for, even loved I think.  Probably her life will be tough with no Daddy to take care of her. I cannot change that even if I could consider adopting her. But I can pray that she will be loved. And I can trust, because I know there is One Daddy who will gladly adopt her. She will never have to ask Him "Do you want me?" because He's already signed her adoption papers with His blood.