Page 28 of Baby Makes 3

“Thank you,” Melanie says with a deep sigh. “I should be able to go home in the morning. Everything seems to be working correctly.” After that, she’s quiet, obviously lost in her own thoughts.

I can’t begin to imagine what’s going through her mind right now.

* * *

Melanie is released just before noon the next day. Christy helps her pack up her belongings and takes her out to the car. Christy’s going to take her sister home.

The maternity staff are kind enough to let us remain in the room for now.

We’re able to keep Hazel with us. The nurses provide us with bottles of formula. Beth stops by to bring us a diaper bag filled with everything we need—diapers, wet wipes, onesies, sleepers, and receiving blankets. Periodically, a nurse comes to take Hazel for her phototherapy treatment.

We finally do lose the room, but the staff are kind enough to let one of us at a time into the nursery to hold Hazel, change her, and feed her. Shane and Beth hang around much of the next day to keep us company. When they leave, Sophie and Lia arrive to take their places.

The family members rotate through the waiting room in pairs to offer their support. My parents stop by a couple of times, as do Jamie’s parents. Troy stops by to update us on the proceedings. We have a two o’clock PM court appearance scheduled in two days.

Hazel stays in the hospital nursery while she’s undergoing her treatment for jaundice. Jamie and I leave the hospital only long enough to run home to shower and change.

Finally, the time comes for us to go to the courthouse for the surrender and temporary custody hearing. When we arrive, Melanie is there, accompanied by her sister. Jamie’s parents are there, as are mine. Beth and Shane come, too, to offer support.

The proceedings are surprisingly short. Melanie signs the surrender papers, and the judge awards me and Jamie temporary custody of Hazel. There will be a home study and areview process before the adoption becomes final at around six months.Six long months.And then Hazel Jane McIntyre will be our daughter legally and forever.

After the court proceedings are concluded, we return to the hospital to collect our daughter and take her home with us. Her doctor has cleared her to leave, after giving us instructions to follow up in a few days with her pediatrician.

We bring the car seat with us to the nursery and strap Hazel in. Then we carry her out to our car. As I sit in the driver’s seat and glance back at the infant car seat, it’s hard to believe this is really happening. We’re taking our daughter home with us.

“She’s awfully quiet,” Jamie says. He’s sitting in the back beside the car seat. “Is she okay?”

I glance in the rearview mirror to catch Hazel’s reflection in the baby mirror attached to the backseat. “She’s sleeping.”

Once we’re home, we take her into our bedroom where we’ve set up her bassinette, changing table, and a rocking chair. Initially, she’ll sleep in our room.

Jamie takes her out of the car seat and lays her on our bed. “Her diaper’s wet.”

“Do you want to change her while I get a bottle ready?”

“Sure,” he says, picking her up and carrying her to the changing table.

I smile as I watch him lay her down and unsnap her sleeper. He has memorized the new layout of the room, the position of each additional piece of furniture, and the location of all the supplies. He changes her diaper, his movements precise and methodical. When he’s dressing her, I head to the kitchen to prepare a bottle.

When I return to the bedroom with the bottle, I find him seated in the rocking chair. Hazel looks so tiny cradled in his strong arms. Not wanting to disturb him, I stand in the doorwayand listen to him singing softly to her, making up the words as he sings.

Gus sits beside the rocking chair, resting his chin on the edge of the seat and gazing up at Jamie and the baby. His tail gently swishes from side to side.

Hazel is one lucky little girl. All little girls should have daddies that dote on them the way I know Jamie will dote on her. I imagine he’ll spoil her a bit. I also imagine he’ll teach her self-defense when she’s older.

“Here you go,” I say as I cross the room and hand him the bottle.

He tests the formula on his wrist, ensuring it’s not too hot. I already did that, of course, but I don’t want to ruin the experience for him.

Halfway through the feeding, he burps her, then resumes feeding her.

It’s not until the bottle is nearly empty that I realize my cheeks are damp with my tears. It’s going to take some time before this all really sinks in.

We have a daughter.

We’re parents.

Not only that, but we’re married now. I guess you can say we have our HEA. We have everything we’ve ever dreamed of.

---