An older woman wearing pink scrubs with a medical mask dangling from her neck hands me a tiny bundle of baby wrapped in a neutral-colored blanket. So soft and warm.
With shaky hands, I take the six-pound, two-ounce love of my life and bring her into view. A deep breath leaves me before I glance down and take in the one and only thing that will be able to bring me to my knees.
This little girl.
Little button nose, red cheeks, tightly shut eyes, and beautiful puffy lips. She’s so small, so tiny, so innocent.
She knows nothing of this world. She knows nothing of its complications, of its prejudice, of its shortcomings, and of its opportunities. But she will know one thing: the love pouring from my heart into hers. At least I hope she will.
I didn’t know it was possible to have an immediate, unconditional love for someone. But here I am, holding my daughter, and it’s there. Love.
My daughter.
I don’t know if I will ever get used to the notion that this little bundle is a part of me, that she will always carry my heart, that no matter what happens, she will always hold a huge chunk of my soul.
Holding back tears and fighting through the knot in my throat I speak softly. “Hey, baby girl.” I sniff, not doing a good job at all with my unexpected emotions. “You’re so beautiful, so tiny, so precious.” Pausing, I take a deep breath and pull the blanket down ever so slightly so I can see her hands. I run my finger across hers and marvel at their size compared to mine just as she wraps her little fist around my finger, gripping me tightly. I lose it, right there and then.
Tears stream down my face as I watch over her and take in this moment, branding it into my brain. “You’re going to be the luckiest little girl to ever walk this planet,” I tell her, tears hitting her blanket. “You’re going to be loved, cared for, and sheltered from everything bad. I don’t want you to ever feel pain, or heartache, and I only want what’s best for you.” I wipe away some tears. “I’m going to love you, so fucking hard, with every bone and fiber in my body. I hope you know that, little girl. I really hope you know how much I love you.”
“Mr. Barnes,” a nurse interrupts, looking down at me in the rocking chair that rests in a room full of flowers and balloons from my teammates and the front office of the ball club. The past two days have been a whirlwind of visitors and well wishes, but now it’s time to leave and it’s all coming to an end.
I nod, “Please let June and Alex in.”
I rock back and forth, speaking softly to my daughter as the door to the hospital room opens once again, June and Alex enter walking hand in hand, their faces full of hope, full of sympathy.
“Hi, ladies,” I choke back. June has tears streaming down her face, her spare hand over her mouth in awe as Alex clings tightly to June for support.
With a deep breath, I stand and say, “Are you ready to meet your baby girl?” I choke on the last words, trying to hold it together. They both nod, and with a broken but also full heart, I hand over my daughter to her new parents.
“Yes,” June says with a watery smile. She holds out her hands and I transfer the baby, along with my cracking heart. Alex wraps her arms around June and looks over her shoulder at their little girl. It’s fucking perfect, seeing these two beautiful women finally fulfilling a lifelong dream of completing their family.
Stepping back, I observe their pure, unfiltered joy. Seeing them, and their elation, I know I’ve done the right thing. I know I’ve given them the most precious gift ever. I know I’ve given my baby girl the best. I know deep down in my bones that I made the right decision.
This baby will be loved. She will be blessed every day with a warm home. She will have opportunity, she will have the chance to grow and learn and be anything she will ever want to be. She’ll have two parents who can give her the world, something I know I can’t do.
Growing up in the foster care system, I’m aware of what it’s like to not have present parents, to not be able to come home to loving arms. I’m familiar with the broken feeling to not have someone cheering you on, to not have someone at every school function, and to not have anyone to watch you grow into the human you’re supposed to be.
I didn’t want that hardship for my daughter.
With my schedule, my profession, I wouldn’t be able to give her what she needs. Sure, I could throw money at a nanny to raise my daughter while I’m on the road, but what kind of life is that for her? It’s not a life at all. I would be a selfish prick to keep her, to only offer half the parent she deserves, never truly being there.
So, I searched for two people who would be able to give my daughter the life she deserves. I met June and Alex through an adoption agency and immediately fell in love with their story, their family, their life. They’ve been trying to adopt for three years, with two failed adoptions under their belt, they weren’t sure if they really wanted to continue, but they decided to give it one last shot. That’s when I found their profile.
What’s better than one mom? Two. It was the one quote I remember from their personalized letter to me. It stuck with me, that and the picture of Alex and June at a Colorado Miners game, wearing Jace Barnes shirts. I might have been a little partial.
The first time we met, they had no idea I was the man fulfilling their unanswered prayers. Initially it was shock, but once that wore off, we sat down and chatted like old friends. I learned about how they first met, a beautifully funny story about working together at an ice cream parlor. I saw pictures of their three cats and two dogs that they jokingly referred to as their farm. And I learned about their struggle through the adoption process, hearing about the prejudice they had to face being a female same-sex couple trying to adopt. It broke me in half and I vowed to them that day, their search was over. That they could rest easy and start stocking up on diapers, because their little girl will be coming shortly.
We parted with long, thankful hugs, an appreciation for both sides of this adoption, knowing that bringing a child into this world is a huge responsibility and that all three of us will do the best we can to give her everything she needs.
Through watery eyes, June looks up at me, her gratefulness beaming from her. “She’s absolutely beautiful, Jace.”
“She’s perfect,” Alex speaks up, being more of the silent one in the relationship, a small tear streaming down her cheek.
“Thank you,” I answer awkwardly, not really sure how to respond. “Uh, did Tracy give you all the paperwork?”
Alex nods, still looking down at the baby. “We are all set and we’ve been through the discharge process as well with the doctor.”
“So she’s ready,” I say, my throat clogging up again.
Alex meets my eyes and nods somberly. “She’s ready.”
“Well, you should get her changed. You brought an outfit, right?”