“Jessica I need to talk with you” Nervously I got up from my desk. My counselor never took me out of class, so my mind was racing with whys, what’s, and how come. When I entered her office I sat down biting my nails. “Well, Jessica I brought you in here to tell you that a family wants to adopt you!” My finger dropped down from being in my mouth for the last 2 minutes biting on my nail that I didn’t really have. “A family wants to adopt me?” I said this with uncertainty, just to make sure that my ears weren’t hearing what they wanted to hear for the last for years. “Yes, they are coming to visit you February 14.” My counselor always had a pretty smile to reassure me of things she knew I was uncertain of. “That’s my Birthday!” Embracing the fact that they were coming to visit me for my birthday made me think of how precious this gift was to me. It was all the gifts I needed in one. I was turning the big 12. Reality hit me, and my emotions took over. Was I to be happy, scared, or sad? What if they don’t like me? My mind wondered about all of these questions that only time would tell. I could feel the tears of mixed emotions running down my cheeks. My counselor hugged me, and told me “Everything will work out.”
“Happy Birthday” I was officially 12, and it felt pretty good. I was spoiled by all of the staff with an over abundance of gifts. My day was good, and I was anticipating on meeting my new parents. The time had come for me to meet them. I walked through the door, and on the couch sat pretty tall women, and a hansom tall man. “Hi Jessica my name is Jon” He shook my hands with a gentle, but yet firm grip. “And I’m Hallie”. I was nervous, but it wasn’t so bad after all. This was where it all started.
Soon I began to go on home visits, and spend time with Jon, Hallie, and there 3 children. 2 months had passed, and it was time for me to get discharged from Children’s Home Society. It was hard for me to say good bye to all the people that helped me out so much.
Almost a year later, 2 days before my birthday went to court to get adopted. This meant a lot to me. This was what I cried, dreamed, and prayed for. It seemed like I started all over again at the age of 12 (Almost 13). I had a new house, new environment, new last name, and new parents. I wasn’t flesh of their flesh nor bone of their bone, but miraculously I was still there own daughter Jessica Chanelle Reed.