My hand was shaking so bad I couldn't put on my eyeliner. My stomach was in knots. I couldn't eat, but I had to eat. What if my stomach started growling in the middle of court? But then what if I ate and the food didn't settle well in my stomach and I'd have to go to the bathroom in the middle of court? I felt faint. Oh my God, what if I fainted in the middle of court???
By the time our coordinator arrived to pick us up I had worked myself into a frenzy. Despite the fact that he had gone through what was going to happen with us, I couldn't stop shaking. I couldn't talk. Bill was as cool as a cucumber. You'd think he did this kind of thing every day.
We entered the judge's chambers, where the hearing would take place, and sat on a table opposite the judge. To our right were the director of the Baby House, a custody officer from the Department of Education, and a social worker. The judge nodded to us in greeting, and the hearing began.
Bill and I each took a turn standing up and answering her questions while our coordinator translated. They were basically the same questions from the pre-court hearing, plus a few more (such as who would be the primary caretaker, would Dylan be covered under our health insurance, etc.) I wish I could go into more detail but the truth of the matter is I was so nervous that I can hardly remember what went on. All I know for sure is that, just half an hour later, the judge issued an order that we should become Dylan's parents and he should be our son forever!