At first, Clara remained in temporary care while authorities searched for biological relatives.
Anna’s husband formally relinquished his parental claim.
Eventually, a distant relative was located.
For several awful weeks, we didn’t know whether that person might want custody.
The relative ultimately declined.
Even then, our caseworker warned us not to assume anything.
“There are other families who may be considered,” she told us.
I understood.
That didn’t make it hurt less.
I went home that afternoon, walked into the garage, and saw the old box of baby things James had refused to let me donate.
I sat down beside it and cried.
Eleven years earlier, those blankets had represented a child I would never have.
Now they might belong to another little girl I loved but still might lose.
James found me there.
He sat on the concrete floor beside me without speaking.
After a while, I leaned my head against his shoulder.
“We can’t lose her.”
“I know.”
“But we might.”
“I know.”
That was the hardest part.
Loving someone while having no right to demand that the world let you keep them.
Part 8 — Telling Our Boys They Might Have a Sister
We were careful with our sons.
We didn’t tell them, “You have a baby sister.”
Not at first.
We said there was a little baby whose mother had died.
We said she needed people to take care of her while adults made important decisions.
We explained that we wanted to help.
Our oldest was quiet for several minutes.
Then he asked,
“Will she live here forever?”
“We don’t know.”
Our seven-year-old had a much more practical concern.
“Is she allowed in my room?”
“Not without knocking when she gets older.”
He frowned.
“But babies can’t knock.”
“No.”
“So she can go in?”
“Probably.”
His eyes filled with tears.
I panicked.
“What’s wrong?”
He wiped his face furiously.
“I don’t know.”
Then he whispered:
“I think I really want a sister.”
Our four-year-old listened to the whole conversation before asking,
“Does she eat chicken nuggets?”
