| |
Two Months Later . . .
“Courtney, are you nervous?”
“I am, but I’ll be okay.” Erik and I were sitting in the adoption agency’s waiting room. Today was our first meeting to get the process started to adopt our child. In a few short weeks, we’ll have our new baby girl. I had my heart set on a little boy, but Erik did everything except insist we got a girl.
Once we have her, I thought we would name her Anna after my mom, or Lucy after my grandmother. As long as the name we choose doesn’t affect her getting a good job, or into a good school, I’m okay with it.
I looked over at Erik. “How are you feeling over there?”
“Courtney, do you know how long I’ve wanted a baby? I’m over the moon right now.”
I’m glad he was so happy because I’m a nervous wreck! I don’t know the first thing about being a parent, and neither does Erik. What I do know is we have a lot of love to give, and hopefully that will be enough. I’ve been practicing that line all morning.
“Give me your hand.”
I reached my sweaty hand toward Erik’s awaiting palm.
“Courtney, your hand is ice-cold.”
“I know, but I’m okay.” I tried to play it off, but no, I’m not okay.
“No, you’re not. You’re shaking.”
I finally confessed, “Erik, I’m terrified.”
“Don’t be, babe. I’m right here with you. We’re going to do this together.”
“But what if . . . What if I’m not a good dad? What if I skip a doctor’s appointment? Or forget the baby’s feeding times? What if I forget to change her, or I don’t get all the air out of her tummy when I burp her?”
Erik chuckled under his breath. “Most babies don’t let you forget things like that.”
“Erik, I’m serious.”
“Court, listen, we’re going to make great parents, okay. What doesn’t come to us naturally, we’ll learn. A baby is a huge step, but we’ll have all we need within each other.”
“I hope you’re right.” I’m still petrified at just the thought of what we were about to do. I just want to do a good job. Show Erik, Shaun, Mama, and myself that I can do this. I’ve always been successful at pretty much everything I’ve set my mind to, so hopefully, raising a child won’t be any different.
“You know Court when I was a little boy, I always dreamt of being two things when I grew up.”
“Really?” I asked, “What?”
“I’ve always wanted to be a doctor and a dad. I would imagine myself leaving home wearing my long white coat ready to start my day. But first, I would kiss my beautiful wife, then play with my little girl for a few minutes right before heading off into the world. That’s been my dream for so long, and now it’s about to come true.” He squeezed my hand. “And Courtney don’t worry; I’m going to do whatever it takes to make it work. I want to be a dad, and I only want this with you. I need you, Courtney. I can’t do this without you.”
“And you won’t have to because I’m right here.” I took a deep breath. “We’ll get through this . . . together.”
“We have a few forms for you guys to fill out to get the ball rolling.” The small stature female coming toward us with a clipboard interrupted our moment. “Once you two fill these forms out, you can go back and meet Mrs. Moss, familiarize yourself with the adoption process, and move on to the next phase.” I wanted to ask her what the next phase was, but I kept quiet, smiled, and nodded.
“Here you are.” She handed the clipboard to Erik. “Take your time, relax, and let me know when you two are ready.”
“Yes, ma’am, thank you.” Erik was so polite.
“Well, this is it.” I smiled and shook my head for him to start the forms. He smiled back at me before focusing his attention on the papers in his lap.
For some reason, he hesitated before answering the first question, which was Name.
“Erik, what is it?” I was confused.
“Huh? . . . Oh, nothing. Just a few butterflies, that’s all. I’m cool.”
He looked back down at the forms and proceeded to answer question one. Next to Name, he prints his first name ever so gently E-R-I-K. Then he writes my name next to his. I watched his every move as if it would be his last, cosigning to make sure everything was accurate.
Once again, he pauses when it’s time to write the baby’s expected name in the appropriate field. The form called for three choices, but Erik only wrote one name: K-A-T-I-E.
I stopped him. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? You cannot be serious. We are not naming our daughter Katie!”
“Courtney, why are you acting this way? Katie was my grandmother’s name.”
I had my mouth opened, but no more words followed. I thought his grandmother’s name was Katie? I’ve never heard him mention a grandmother before. I would have remembered that. I wanted to ask more questions, but my nerves—and all the caseworkers buzzing around—kept my mouth closed.
When Erik handed me the form to sign, I signed my name and handed the clipboard back to him. The adoption process was underway. Soon Erik and I will be parents, but I still want to know why does he want to name our new daughter Katie? . . .