“I’m pregnant,” I whispered into my husband’s ear. I had waited up late for him, lying in bed smiling to myself, daring to believe that I was really, finally pregnant after sixteen years of marriage. “How do you know,” he asked. I could hear the joy in his whispered reply. “That’s what the doctor said […]
It was 2 am and the phone was ringing. My heart stopped. “She’s gone into labor,” my husband said, grabbing a pair of jeans from the floor. “She wants us to take her to the hospital.” While he dressed, I stayed glued to the bed. Too shocked to even move. ‘She’ was a birthmom we’d
My husband and I have three adopted children. Three boys. They are ‘all boy’, as the saying goes. And I wouldn’t have it any other way. They call each other brothers of another mother. They’re cool with that and so am I. As a young married woman 19 years ago, adoption was the furthest thing
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