It had been almost two weeks since our signatures had determined his fate, but it was one more day until his fate was actually sealed. And although I knew I would not go back, that I would not change my mind, I wanted to see him anyway, just to make sure, again.

Michael and I walked through the door and hugged the new parents hello and soon I had a squiggly young baby in my arms. I was always amazed at how warm babies make you. They were so small and yet they generated this ungodly amount of heat. It was incredible.

Everything was happy. I was happy. I had been nervous all day that maybe in this meeting I would want to change my mind, and then where would I be? Simply wanting something doesn't change the actual situation. But here I was, holding my little infant, loving him all the more, and knowing we had made the right decision in placing him for adoption.

Molly and Eric had taken him home from the hospital only days old. He was only weeks old at this point, and my god how they had changed! Later, Michael said as we walked out the door, "Babies change people." It was true. We could see it immediately. When we met Molly and Eric, they were a really great couple. Now they were parents. Words can't even describe that kind of change, but you know it when you see it. It was obvious.

I handed over the dozen or so bottles of frozen breast milk that I had accumulated. Molly thanked me again and again that night, for taking care of myself before he was born, for taking care of him after. Breast milk is best, they say, and here I was sacrificing my breasts so that Ian could get the absolute best start in life. I wanted to thank the two of them for taking care of him now. For metamorphing into parents so quickly and loving him of their own volition as much as I did instinctively. I still haven't figured out how to say that to them so that it doesn't sound weird or stupid. I'm good with those kind of moments. I guess I also figure that they understand the trust we've put in them anyway. Maybe words can't say that either.

We plated "pass the baby" at dinner - each of us taking turns feeding him while the others ate a really great meal. I wondered a bit in the back of my head if they always ate this good, or if they were still trying to impress us and show us that our son would be all right. But Molly made no bones about Eric being the chef of the family. She just wasn't a cook.

After dinner, Ian slept in my arms on the couch, and we listened to music and talked about various things. Michael and I started talking about the House of Mystery - wherever it is - and all the stuff the Discovery Channel had told us about it. It's not like we had kept it a secret.

Eric called Molly in, and they were overjoyed. They said a lot of people had asked them that, and they thought we were, just how we planned to do missionary work together, how we acted towards each other, etc. But they didn't know for sure. Congratulations came, and then Molly said, "Are you sure you want to go through with this, then?"

Maybe a second passed, but it seemed to me like a silence settled, allowing all sorts of thoughts to go through my head undisturbed. It was like the age old story of Solomon and the two mothers, except that we were both willing to sacrifice our status as mother so that the child could live. I wanted to cry right then. They had been caring for Ian for weeks, which is a long time when you're talking about an infant. They had changed into parents. If I had any doubts before, I knew for sure then that they would do anything for my son. And the least Michael and I could do right then is to assure them that this was the right decision for us, and they were now his parents.

People, without fail, will say they're sorry when I tell them I have a son, and he was adopted by another couple. I can't say that I blame them for saying this, or even that it annoys me. I grew up in the same culture. I know that when people think of adoption, they think crying babies and birthmothers who never knew what happened to them. I saw all the 80's made-for-TV movies about searches and the longing and the dear. And maybe once it was like that, for real, in real life, for many people. But adoption has changed over the past twenty years. Michael and I chose the couple who would be the parents of our child. And we got to know them beforehand. And we still know them now. And Ian knows us, and always will know us. We will be Kati and Michael to him. HE will know who we are in relation to him.

He was at our wedding. We were at his christening. And when we all go out together, he has four parents who beam with pride when strangers compliment him. He's almost eight months old at this writing, and I couldn't even say that I made a sacrifice. I made a choice. And there is a difference.