Thank you thank you thank you thank you to the most wonderful beta in the world, FaerieTales4ever, without whom my muse would have stayed away and my commas would have been fewer. You're the best!

January 4th, 2013

We did it! We are now officially on the register for adoption in the state of New York. It's been a long few months learning about how the process works and making sure we are in the best possible situation for this but finally, we've done it.

We took the train up to Rensselaer and walked along the river. It was bitterly cold, and Henry walked in between us, clasping our gloved hands in his in an effort to keep them warm. We walked until our lungs felt like they were freezing from the inside and we could no longer feel our fingers. Emma even managed to resist the temptation to throw snowballs at the pair of us!

When we arrived at the agency, Henry stayed in the waiting area with his comic books and Emma and I went into the office. We knew there would be questions, but we had not quite prepared ourselves for the sheer volume of them. Almost every inch of our lives were examined. Fortunately we had nothing to hide and, by the end, Melissa was confident that we would make excellent parents.

On the way home, Emma held my hand, as though the harder she squeezed, the more likely it was that our wish would be granted. She's writing in her own journal now. We live in hope that one day soon, someone will entrust us with their most treasured gift and make our family complete.

My mouth is dry and my heart is racing as though I've just run a marathon. A baby? I feel winded, like someone's just punched me hard in the stomach. But this entry is from 2013. I know I've been preoccupied for the last few days but I'd certainly have noticed a small child tottering around the place.

Emma is snoring soundly, having fallen asleep almost upright with a book open on her chest. I desire nothing more than to shake her awake and demand answers, but I can't. She'll think I'm crazy, and things seem delicate enough as they are. I turn the next few pages and scan the words desperately, looking to shed some more light on this fragment from our past.

April 30th, 2013

Emma brought a gift home for me. It was beautifully wrapped in a bag adorned with silver stars. Inside was the tiniest sleepsuit - white with tiny grey bears, each one holding a star-shaped balloon. "Remember how we used to teach Henry to wish upon a star?" she reminded me.

I thought about all those times he used to wait until the first star came out and then wish to get his favorite book for Christmas or for us to let him have a friend sleepover.

"Well now it's us wishing," she said. "I just saw it and knew it was meant for us. For our baby."

I cried. In fact, I wept. It was just so perfect and so… Emma. If this experience is teaching me anything, it's how much love I have for her and Henry. At times, it's so overwhelming I feel like I don't deserve it. I've been telling myself more and more recently how lucky I am to have found them and how lucky our baby will be to find us.

I feel like I'm reading the last page of a novel before I get there. Like I'm spying on someone, something that I don't want to see and yet I can't turn away. I flick through. There aren't many more entries - two thirds of the pages are completely blank.

September 5th, 2013

I can't believe I'm finally about to write this but… We're getting a baby!

Melissa called and said there's a girl in Brooklyn who, out of all the prospective parents on file, picked us. She's due in February. She's twenty three and she doesn't feel ready to raise a child, but she read about us and wanted to grant our wish. She wants a closed adoption which means we won't be able to find out who she is or tell our baby about his or her parents. I wasn't sure how I felt about that - it didn't sit well with me that we would be unable to give our baby any idea as to where he or she really came from.

As much as my heart yearns to expand our family, I couldn't imagine building it on lies. Emma knew something wasn't right and begged me to tell her what I was feeling, so I did. She told me it didn't matter where our baby was from, but that it would have more than it would ever need and be loved wholly and forever. We've decided that we will be honest and open and cross every bridge as and when it comes.

Emma and Henry are desperate to discuss baby names but for now I'm just going to let it sink in. After all the months of hoping and wishing and waiting, finally our dreams are coming true.

They're few and far between now. The next one is Christmas.

December 25th 2013

I cherish this day every year. There's something about the togetherness and tradition of everything. We hung our new decorations on the tree together, as we always do. We drank hot cocoa and cinnamon whilst listening to the choir sing on the radio, as we always do. We played charades after dinner, as we always do.

Except today, in between the eggnog and sugar cookies and presents, all I could think about was next year. Next year there'll be a baby. We'll be a family of four. And every time I thought about the changes, my love for what I already have grew just a little bit more.

January 9th, 2014

We bought the last few things for the baby today. It's been harder than I expected, not knowing if we're having a boy or a girl. We decided not to find out, but there are only so many neutral baby clothes I can look at before I go crazy. All three of us put the crib together yesterday and today we chose a set of Winnie The Pooh bedding. I couldn't help but laugh when Emma picked it out - it seemed so far from something I had expected her to choose. Then she reminded me it was Henry's favorite when he was little and when she handed it to me, I couldn't let it go. I tried desperately to persuade her not to buy the most expensive stroller system in the store, but admitted defeat in the hopes she'd let me choose the colour. She did.

Now the spare bedroom is finally ready to receive our precious gift. Henry has been taking bets on when the baby will be born and how much it will weigh. Emma thinks it'll come on Valentine's Day, but I think it'll be sooner. I'd never realized before how much people mean it when they band around the age-old cliché 'We don't care, as long as it's healthy.' Now I can't think of anything in the world that would make us happier.

Something inside of me is stirring. Like a monster in my stomach, awakening from an eternal slumber. I'm becoming invested, as though these are characters in a story book. I'm conflicted. Willing everything to turn out right in the end. Knowing it won't.

I give up on scanning and skip right to the last entry. It's very short. Just the date and four gut-wrenching words, written by a version of myself I simultaneously long to remember and thank goodness I can't.

She changed her mind.