The waiting period seemed never-ending when we ultimately decided on adoption—a mountain of paperwork, several house visits, and anxious interviews.
But we were here now. We had succeeded. “You’re sure about this?” Karen, the social worker, gently questioned us.
Her eyes were alert and vigilant as she watched us from the other side of the table. In front of her was a hefty file. Humming a little melody to herself,
Sophie was contentedly sitting on my lap and tinkering with my wedding band. Claire said, “Of course,” with power and assurance. “She’s ours.”
