The babies were brought up by orphanage. Emma was in one of the last "waves" of babies. When the elevator door opened and I saw her I knew. Video camera rolling, I followed the group to the Holt room where they entered and began some paperwork. We waited outside the door - shaking. Not one cell in our bodies was at rest. Every second ticked by like it was an eternity.

At one point Emma poked her head out of the door and peeked down the hall towards us. She looked so inquisitive, like "What is all this about?". Our anxiety level was so high, it was probably measureable on the Richter Scale. One of the other Mom's-to-Be began calling out to Emma, thinking she was hers. Carolyn fell apart. I told her not to worry and led her back to our room a few doors down. Within a minite or two there was a knock on the door. Our hearts stopped. We jumped up, hurried to the door and before we knew what was happening, Emma was in Carolyn's arms.

She cried while we talked to Cathy, our Holt Rep and to the orphanage officials (through Cathy's interpretation) that brought her. We asked our questions about sleep, eating habits, favorite foods, etc. and after about an hour they left us alone with her. She continued to cry for a bit, until Carolyn crunched a Cherrio. At the sound of the crunch Emma smiled then began to giggle wildly. We both broke out into laughter with her and the three of us sat laugning and crunching Cherrios. She was ours.