“Damn, I love that you still have your weird style,” Carter says, as he wraps his arms around my waist from behind, tugging my back into his front.
I glance up at his perfect face over my shoulder, “What’s weird about this?” I ask, then look down at my outfit. It’s not that bad, I don’t think.
He chuckles against my neck, peppering it with kisses as he speaks, “Baby, you’re wearing a long sleeve, thigh length dress,” he pauses, “That’s covered in cats. It’s weird. But I love you, even in the weird dress.”
Well, I thought it was cute but whatever, I like it and I really don’t care what anyone else thinks, except maybe Carter. I run my hands down over the fabric enjoying the feel against my palms until I come to Carter’s hands and I slide my fingers between his, “So, are you going to tell me where we’re going?” I ask.
“Nope,” he says then he spins me around to face him, “Now get your shoes on, it’s time to go.”
Carter went back to school and took the necessary classes to get a degree in special education after his one and only fight. He is now a counsellor at a newly opened centre for people with Down Syndrome. He helps families come to terms with what it means to have a child with the disability, and is very involved in community awareness programs.
I’m so proud of the man he has become, and the way he turned his pain and frustration into a positive by helping others to see how blessed they are to have someone with Down Syndrome in their lives.
Bella is an amazing young woman who has taken steps to pursue a career in modelling since our first shoot a few years ago. She is an ambassador for youth with Down Syndrome and speaks publicly at schools and conferences about the opportunities that are there, if you have the courage to purse them.
My heart is so full of love for my family, I don’t know how I could possibly be any happier.
We pull up out the front of a government looking office and I turn to Carter, confused. I thought he was taking me on a surprise date or something. “What are we doing here?”
His smile becomes nervous, “You know how we spoke about fostering to adopt instead of having our own children?” he says cautiously.
“Yes,” I reply, careful not to get too carried away before he tells me exactly what is going on.
Carter reaches across the centre console and takes my hands with his, twining our fingers together, “I know we discussed it as something we would do in the future, when the time was right,” he pauses, swallowing hard, “But sometimes things happen and the right time comes to you when you least expect it.”
I nod, thinking back to the day Carter became a part of my life and I smile, “Yeah, I know.”
He glances at the building we’re parked in front of then, back to me. “Well, My Girl, I got a call from Child Services yesterday, a little girl was left at the fire station over on Fifth street and she needs a home. They called me because I had previously mentioned our desire to foster,” he says.
Happy tears fill my eyes, and I grab my door handle, “Well let’s go, where is she? That building is depressing, we have to get her out of there,” I tell him.
But he pulls my hand back, “I love your enthusiasm, My Girl, but you need to know, she has Down Syndrome, she was left with a letter from her parents noting her date of birth and a few details they had about her disability.”
My heart sinks, and I cover my mouth with my hand, “They didn’t want her because of her Down Syndrome?” I ask, and when Carter nods, it steels my resolve, “Then they don’t deserve her,” I tell him. I don’t need to hear any more. I swing my door open and get out of the car. “Well, what are you waiting for?” I ask a stunned Carter, who is staring at me from the driver’s seat.
He shakes his head, then climbs out of the car too, both of us slamming our doors at the same time. We hold hands as we enter the sterile building and go through the mountains of paperwork required to become our mystery girl’s official foster parents.
Her biological parents hadn’t even taken the time to give her a name, which sent me into a fit of anger. Carter however remained calm. “How are you not outraged right now?” I ask him.
He shrugs, “Because I know she will have a better life with us then with a family who can’t appreciate the gift they’ve been given,” he says coolly.
And just like that, my anger evaporates. He’s right.
When we leave Child Services, Carter drives us straight to a Target store where we purchase everything we think we might need for a new born baby. A cot, a car seat, nappies, wipes, bottles, and a bunch of warm clothes. Carter also picked up a couple of extra things he said she would need to help her breathing if she has difficulties at night time.
We arrive at the hospital exactly one hour after leaving Child Services. Excitement and trepidation fill my chest. Will I be a good mother? I know without a doubt that Carter will be an amazing father to this little girl. But when we’re ushered into a room with only one tiny clear bassinet in the middle of it, and my eyes land on the precious little bundle wrapped up inside, all my fears fall away.
She is perfect. I can’t imagine how anyone could look at her and not fall in love at first sight. Quickly, I pull out my phone and google girl names that mean perfect. Results fill the screen, and I scroll through until the right one practically leaps off the page, Arieanna.
“What are you doing?” Carter asks me, looking over my shoulder, and I pass him my phone as I stare down at our new baby girl. “Arieanna, meaning powerful, perfect, and complete,” he reads under his breath, then looks at our beautiful girl, sleeping soundly. Smiling, he murmurs, “Arieanna, it’s perfect.”
It’s in this very moment, when Carter’s eyes find mine, that I see my life with blinding clarity. This is where I’m supposed to be. Right here, with Carter and our new baby girl, Arieanna. This is what we are supposed to do. All this time it was right in front of us, and we never saw it. We have enough love to share with many more children like Arieanna, and I know that’s exactly what we’re going to do.