I thought placing our baby in foster care was the right decision. But giving him away was harder than bringing him home
As told to Shoshana Gross
The first time the nurse placed the red, helpless bundle of baby in my arms, I only saw his tongue protruding from his tiny mouth. And then I looked at his eyes — slightly slanted, dark blue, and blinking in the newness of light.
My fourth baby. A Friday night baby, emerging with the holiness of Shabbos. But he didn’t resemble any of his three older siblings. With the complete devastation of an emotional earthquake, I knew this wasn’t the baby I wanted.
In those dazed moments of horror, I thought of all the ultrasounds, the repeated assurances that my baby was healthy — and tears of betrayal rolled down my face.
“Isn’t he cute?” my husband said. He didn’t notice the tell-tale signs.
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