The what-ifs drive me crazy. What if she doesn’t like me? What if, like a bad blind date, we just don’t click? What if I say something stupid? What if she’s been hiding something, like drug use during pregnancy or family history of something unimaginable?Hubby and I arrive at our meeting a few minutes early to get situated. I sit down and imagine how it will be to first lay eyes on Crystal, and my nervous bladder cries for attention. As I head toward the bathroom, I am in my head about exactly how I want our first impression to be. I squeeze through the small doorway from the counseling room to the hallway, and...squeezing past me is a young woman with a big belly and a big smile. Crystal.
Thisisn’thowIplannedit-SheIScute-Ilikeheralready-OhmygoshIaboutknockedherover-Ihavetopee-Whatdoesshethinkofme-Ohgodthisisn’thowIplannedit. We giggle at the awkwardness, and she squinches up her face with dancing eyes, putting me at ease. I say “I’ll be right back,” and I continue on my mission. In the stall, I mumble a thank you prayer that I already like her.
I come back to the room and we do formal introductions. Crystal’s mom is with her. Her role seems to be part guardian angel, part Rottweiler.
Amy, the birthparent counselor, starts the meeting.
