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     At the exact same time that Taylor was being adopted, baby Isaac was being brought into this world. It's almost poetic how things work out, isn't it? The beginning of two new lives all within the span of a few moments. The adoption went beautifully. Taylor was beyond excited to have everyone in one place specifically for her (the mommy side of me is having to remind the therapist side of me that this is NOT narcissism, but an average 4-year-old complex!). Cameron, however, was less than excited, rightfully speaking. The poor kiddo can't grasp the legal system any better than I can.... "When will it be my turn?", "Why does Taylor get to be adopted first?", "Why can't I be Cameron Costa?", "Does this mean that I'm going back to my old family?" How does a mother answer such questions? I don't truly have an answer for any of them. All I know is, that little boy deserves his moment. He NEEDS to have a day where everyone comes together for HIM... where he is the center of attention and where he gets to feel secure that he never has to leave our home, ever. (Well, until he's out of college, anyways.... THAT will be another conversation.)
     And then there's baby Isaac. It's amazing to have only 1 day to do the whole "nesting" thing. It's even more amazing to feel 100% connected to a child that you only just came to know about, whom you never met, and that may or may not be with you for more than a few months. Yet, here I am. The perfect picture of connectedness. Perhaps this week of adoption and babies being born has done something to my motherly nature, but estrogen is pouring out of me like a waterfall at this point. If I'm not crying over something, I'm checking on the kids as they sleep every few minutes... and the fact that I've turned into a hugging and kissing machine is another issue altogether!
     But, due to numerous legal and court issues (as well as ridiculous drama by all involved in this process), we were unable to see Isaac at the hospital until today. He was born addicted to opiates, so they are keeping him for observation. We were told to expect him home on Wednesday. And then Wednesday came and went, and we were told Thursday was the day. Thursday morning, after we paced the house 50 times, straightened the same towels on the racks for the millionth time, and even made whoopy to kill time (all 6 minutes of it), we received a phone call telling us that he wouldn't be home for 1-3 more days! UGH!!!! The anxiety of waiting was more than we could handle... so I promptly went back to work to distract my racing thoughts and aching heart. No one would give us information on if he was ok, and the hospital was treating us as if WE were the bad guys (because OBVIOUSLY the opiate-abuser in this entire situation is blameless...). Finally, this evening we were able to see him for the first time..... and he is beautiful! The nurses reported that his symptoms are much better and that he is one of the best babies they've had. I'm afraid that I monopolized most of the time with him (sorry, honey!) but we will get to go back tomorrow and spend some more time holding him.
     Things that I've learned in my short period mothering a newborn: 1) Swaddling is a lot harder than it looks. 2) Babies have even more gas than I do, and beating out a girl with IBS is pretty hard to do! 3) Circumcision is gross. 4) Babies smell like Heaven. 5) And I hate having an empty cradle next to my bed.... Hopefully, our new little fellow will be home Sunday.... and hopefully, all of our hearts will be protected as we enter this journey with new baby Isaac.

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