Although I was just nine years old, I still remember the day Allison came into our family. My entire family arrived at the Salt Lake Airport with our arms heavy with banners, flowers, balloons, and gifts. My grandma had bought a dozen roses for our little guest of honor, and I remember how neat I felt when she let me carry them through the airport. They smelled so wonderful, and I felt so important as I carried such a large and beautiful bouquet. I was curious as the gate attendant thoroughly picked through the flowers. Excitement and anticipation thumped like raindrops inside my stomach as we approached the terminal.

The entire group of family and friends gathered at the window to watch the huge jet pull into the terminal. The cool glass against our noses and hands did nothing to cool our excitement as we pressed our faces against the window, straining for a glimpse of someone familiar. We waited impatiently as passengers began to file off of the plane, most of them curious as to why we were all there with our cameras, banners, balloons, and flowers. I felt strong and proud to be holding a banner that said, ôWelcome to America Allison!ö We felt we had waited long enough for this day, thirsty for her to arrive. And then we saw them. My aunt Amy, her husband Bob, and ôherö. Their new baby Allison. We all cheered when they finally emerged from the airplane terminal with their arms full of diaper bags, luggage, and little Allison. What a welcome! Tears of sheer joy were ever present as we saw Bob and Amy hold the child they had waited so long to have. My heart felt like it had grown, as it swelled with the love I felt for all of my family members.

Allison is now a beautiful eleven year old girl, and the Pickering family has grown to eighteen grandchildren, and one great-grand child. Along with Allison, there are six more adopted grandchildren in the family, each with their own special story. But that night was the first time my young eyes were opened to the realities of life, and the beauty of miracles. I will never forget how I felt when I watched Amy and Bob walk off the plane to share their new daughter with their family and with the world. Happiness and compassion for my family surged through my body, and has continued to this day. It made me realize the importance of families in a way I never would have, had it not be for adoption. Wherever AllisonÆs birth mother is, I hope she somehow knows how loved Allison is.

My little one, my little one,

All my life I’ve promised you,

I would give you only the best.

The very best I would give to you.

So on this day I give to you,

Two parents and a brother,

Who will love and raise you as I would,

If I truly were your mother.

But I have only given you birth,

And all the love in my heart,

But these things are not enough,

and for this we must part.

*Taken from a birth mother’s journal*

Concrete Details

"Here is her arms, and here are her legs. If you follow the screen, you can see her little spine, and her is her head."

I will never forget the way I felt that day my doctor showed me the tiny baby growing inside of me. I felt like a zombie, my mind completely detached from my foreign body. I began to sob. Knowing that I had made the decision to give this baby up for adoption, it seemed unreal to think that this child would be mine for only a few more short months. My doctor and his staff did their best to comfort me, although there were no words reassuring enough to dull the pain my heart felt.

I had recently made the decision to put the child I was carrying up for adoption. I was in no position to care for her, and I loved her too much to deny her a life. My only other choice was to put her up for adoption. It was such a scary choice, one that left me with feelings of guilt, sadness, and hope that this child would receive a family beyond the means of anything I could ever provide for this sweet, sweet baby.

I had decided to see a counselor at Social Services. It was my first step towards adoption, and my sister went with me for support. I met one on one with a counselor who listened to me and talked to me about the decision I was making.

"You need to be aware that your baby will not be allowed to know your name, or your families name, unless her adoptive parents allow it," the councilor informed me. My heart sunk as she also informed me that I would not be able to give my baby pictures of me or my family either.

I left the center feeling very discouraged. How could I live by those rules? I loved my baby so much, and I wanted to be able to express this love. It was then that I realized there were a few things I could do to show my baby girl in a small way how much I really love her. I made plans to keep a journal that would hopefully help my child understand things a little better once she was older. I started a cross-stitch for her, and with the help of my mom I made a quilt for her also. Every stitch I placed was placed there with love.

A week after my first meeting with the councilor, I began reading through profiles of hopeful adoptive families. I read page after page of letters from great families, but not one of them seemed right. I returned those profiles and asked for more. I was able to read even more great profiles, and finally one really struck me. This letter caused me to feel something inside, a peaceful, assuring feeling. To make sure that this feeling was genuine, I re-read it the next day. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I read again the wonderful words from this family. I knew this was the family my baby belonged to. I felt so strongly about this family raising my baby, but a little disappointed when Connie, the councilor, informed me of a small road block. She told me that this family was being considered by another girl as well as myself. I left feeling discouraged, but aware that the peaceful feeling still existed somewhere inside of me.

A few days later Connie called and told me that the other girl had decided to keep her baby, and that she had put the family’s file on hold for me. I remember crying myself to sleep that night, torn between the emotions I was feeling. I was happy that God had helped me choose a family for my baby, but devastated by the reality that I would be losing her in a few short weeks. I wanted for someone to come and make everything better. I wanted a miracle, a savior. I wanted someone to make it possible for me to be able to support and raise my baby.

As my parents read over the family profile, they ironically felt the same feeling of reassurance that I had when I first read it. This double conformation made me feel a little better, and after reading and learning more about this family I was again comforted. I knew immediately that I had made the right choice when Connie showed me a picture of them. They were a beautiful family. I was happy to see that my baby would have a very handsome older brother, and two enthusiastic, loving, wonderful parents that shared many good qualities similar to me and my own parents. At that moment, I knew everything was going to work out.

The day came when I was to meet the people I had selected to be my baby’s family. I was so nervous! I was worried that they wouldn’t like me, or how they would judge me. I was very scared, and very emotional. I remember how I felt when they finally entered the room. All of my fears and insecurities vanished. It was so wonderful to talk to them, and even more wonderful when they showed me their son’s scrapbook. I saw how happy he was, and I was happy to know that my baby would share this happiness as a part of that family. The hour I spent with the parents of my baby went by so fast! I was able to hug them as they left, and I reminded them to tell my baby each day how much they loved "their" baby.

Today is July 8^th, 1996. In a few hours I will be on my way to the hospital to have my labor induced. It seems so strange. Most women would hate being over due (especially in July), but I am grateful for the extra time I have had with my baby. I know she won’t remember the many, many nights I talked to her when I could feel her tiny hands and feet moving inside of me, as I cherished every kick. I’m not sure I am prepared to finally see my baby and then have to say goodbye. I feel such a bond with her. She has spent so many months close to my heart, and I hope she fully understands the intentions of it.

"Baby, I love you so much. I hope that someday you will understand that I made these choices purely out of love. I don’t think it is possible to express with words how much I love you. A part of me will always be with you. I look forward to seeing your beautiful face, I’ve already felt your beautiful spirit. I will cherish the few short hours I am able to spend with you forever."

WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE FLOWER?

Children are flowers.

They are beautiful, living organisms full of energy, vibrance, and life.

Children grow from seeds,

Sprouting, changing, and photosynthesizing into new seasons.

Children are a kaleidoscope of every imaginable hue.

They share their colors with the world through laughter, innocence and love.

Children are grounded by roots.

Strong foundations of earlier generations, holding them firm in the soil of life.

Children’s stems are strong against the world’s ferocious winds,

Yet they are as fragile as a Gerber daisy’s petals.

Children are as unique as a dandelion is from an iris.

Each one adds their own beauty and function to their place in the earth..

Children’s minds are rich, beneficial gardens.

Growing, expanding, and evolving fertile with knowledge, imagination, and personality.

Children are beautiful. Alive. Necessary.