Then I asked where to begin.
Finding the babies didn’t give me any special claim.
My mother worried I was making a decision too soon after losing Daniel and Lily.
“Sweetheart, are you sure?”
“No,” I admitted. “But I want to find out if I can give them a home.”
My mother worried I was making a decision too soon.
I attended classes, completed background checks and home inspections, and spoke honestly about my grief.
The twins remained in protective care while authorities searched for their family.
No parent was identified.
I spoke honestly about my grief.
After the required approvals, they were placed with me, and their adoption was finalized later.
The first night they slept in my house, I sat beside their cribs until morning.
I named them Lily and Grace.
Their adoption was finalized.
The names belonged to the daughters I’d lost, but I never expected these girls to become them.
They made that impossible anyway.
Lily was loud from the beginning and screamed whenever I put socks on her.
The names belonged to the daughters I’d lost.
Grace studied every toy as though instructions were hidden underneath.
At ten, Lily tried cutting her own bangs. She failed, and Grace laughed so hard she fell off her chair.
I learned which cough meant Grace needed a doctor and which one meant Lily was hoping to stay home from school.
At ten, Lily tried cutting her own bangs.
Some nights, after they were asleep, I still cried for Daniel and my first Lily.
But our house was noisy again.
And I was glad to hear it.
I still cried for Daniel and my first Lily.
When the girls were thirteen, Lily asked about her name.
“Did you call me Lily because you wanted your other daughter back?”
The question caught me off guard.
Lily asked about her name.
We were folding laundry.
Grace stopped matching socks.
I sat beside Lily.
“I chose your name because I loved it, and because I loved her, sweetheart.”
Grace stopped matching socks.
Lily looked down.
“Do you ever wish I was her?”
“No.”
She looked up.
“I wish I’d had the chance to know both of you.”
“Do you ever wish I was her?”
Grace leaned against my shoulder.
“And me?”
“You were named for a little girl I never got to meet.”
“The baby you lost?”
I nodded.
“You were named for a little girl I never got to meet.”
Grace thought about that.
“Well, I’m pretty good at being me.”
I laughed and hugged her.
“You certainly are, princess.”
Grace thought about that.
By eighteen, Lily worked at a bookstore and had an opinion about everything.
Grace could spend an afternoon repairing one broken radio.
They were close, but they didn’t always agree.
Lately, though, they’d been whispering together.
They were close.
Whenever I entered the kitchen, their conversation stopped.
One evening, I caught Lily closing her laptop.
“Planning a bank robbery?!” I teased.
“Very funny, Mom.”
Their conversation stopped.
Grace gave her a look.
I didn’t press.
They were adults now.
They deserved privacy.
But a week later, they came into my bedroom while I was getting ready for bed.
I didn’t press.
Grace held her phone with both hands.
Lily looked unusually pale.
“Mom,” Grace said, “please don’t be mad.”
I put down my hairbrush.
“What happened?”
Lily looked unusually pale.
Lily sat on the edge of my bed.
“We’ve been looking for our birth mother.”
I knew this day might come.
“You’ve been searching?” I asked.
I knew this day might come.
Grace nodded.
“We requested the information we could access and took DNA tests.”
“DNA tests?”
“A close relative matched with us,” Lily admitted. “She said her sister gave birth to twin girls around the time we were found. Everything fits.”
“We requested the information we could access.”
I looked at both girls.
“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
Grace rubbed her thumb along the edge of the phone case.
“We didn’t want you to think you weren’t enough.”
I looked at both girls.
I reached for her hand.
“You don’t have to protect me from wanting answers about yourselves.”
