As I rack my brain for treasured moments, each memory that pops into my head jostles with the next to be the best. Could it be the “I love you mummy” time, or the first squeezy cuddles times? I especially like the one when the growth specialist Tink was under when he came to us, told us all the love we had given him had made him grow and he was a year later, no longer considered at risk of being abnormally small. For Stig the times are often around the progressive steps, the realisation that a hug when you are sad can make it all better, the meaningful “sorry” and the delight at new experiences. There really are so many but I have managed to pick just one treasured moment to share , the moment it all began for us with the boys.
Mr H and I sat there side by side, our hands interlocked, the grip firm and tight. The shallowness of my breath and tension through my body was not portraying the relaxed confident woman I so wanted to appear. My husband’s leg jiggled up and down and as I always do when his nerves betray him in this way, I leant forward, hopefully inconspicuously, and gently squeezed his knee. Calmly messaging “for god sake hold it together”.
On the sofa opposite us two ladies surrounded by papers and a single photo of two little boys, sat sipping tea and smiling nicely. One we knew well and had shared our most intimate secrets with in the last few months, the other a stranger. The stranger, she held the key that could open the door to the rest of our lives.
We’d talked and talked, answered questions even asked a few ourselves but the meeting was drawing to an end and I could feel the panic setting in. Internally my mind raced “What else could we do to make her give us that key?” Outwardly I forced a wider more ridiculous smile across my face.
Then my brave husband took the plunge “So when do you think you can tell us if we’ve been selected for the boys?”
The stranger smiled, her eyes set on him. “Well as far as I’m concerned it’s a match, they are yours if you would like them”
Exhale, gulp, and reach for air as the salty streams fell. Immediately we fall together, arms entwined sobbing on each other’s shoulders. “Thank you, thank you, thank you” “Thank you, thank you, and thank you”
She handed us the photo of the two little boys, “you can keep this” she said.
We thanked her more as she left and then thanked our social worker as she left.
We stuck the picture on the fridge door and stood and stared at the two wide eyed little urchins before us, our little urchins, our boys Stig and Tink.
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