I bite my thumbnail, panicked. I can't believe I screwed this up.

I think I just managed to lose our baby.

We were so close. The papers were right in front of me; all I had to do was sign.

Instead, I let Chandler convince me that this girl needs to know the truth. I don't know why it matters—she's giving a baby away. She's a pregnant teenager, and once this is all over, she'll go back to being a normal teenage girl and it won't really matter to her who has the baby so long as she's not the one who has to take care of it.

That's my baby she's carrying. It's mine. I can feel it. Maybe I don't get to carry it, but that is my child slipping away from me. My heart breaks just thinking about it.

I want to blame Chandler for this; I didn't know he would have such moral objections to letting this girl believe that we're a doctor and a reverend instead of a junior copywriter and chef. I thought he just wanted a baby.

In fact, it would be really easy to blame someone else for this, and why not my husband? His stupid honesty is what's going to keep me from my baby.

It's not like I can blame him for our fertility troubles, since that's something that managed to afflict both of us.

Not that I would actually blame him for that, anyway. I know the struggle of adoption isn't his first choice, either. If we could, we would do this the old-fashioned way, and maybe we'd have a couple of babies now.

I sigh and start pacing, crossing my arms tightly over my chest.

But…it's not his fault. How can I even really consider faulting him for this when all he wants to do is bring our baby into the world honestly? And what kind of mother could I possibly be if this is what I'm willing to do to get a child?

A desperate one. That's what I am—desperate. I want a baby so badly it hurts. It's not at all fair that my husband and I, who love each other so much and want this so badly, can't have one together and this girl is willing to just give it away. Where's the justice in that? How does it make any sort of sense? I know there's a lot of injustice in the world, most of it much more severe than not being able to have a baby, but right now…it doesn't feel like it.

How is we're being denied something so basic, and this girl can just…give away a baby? How does that work?

I put my hands in my face for a moment, willing myself not to cry.

I want this so much. Chandler and I have been trying to have a baby, to get a baby, for so long. And it's right here. It's right here. I can literally reach out and touch it. At least, I can touch Erica's belly.

My heart clenches, aching painfully, and I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to draw blood. I sit down on the edge of the couch and worry my thumb some more.

My baby is so close, and so far.

God, I can't believe I screwed this up.

And now Chandler's out there, talking to her, or the agency, or whoever he can find, and everything is riding on this.

He's good with words, when he wants to be. Most of the time, he'd rather joke around and make people laugh, but he can be incredibly eloquent when the occasion calls for it. Every time I think about what he said when he proposed to me, I get chills. All the soft words and quiet declarations over the years…he knows what to say and how to say it.

I just have to hope it's enough.

I have to hope that whatever words he finds can convince Erica that we're not horrible people; or, at the very least, that I'm not a horrible person. After all, I was the one who did the bulk of the talking and lying earlier; Chandler mostly stared at me in shock.

I don't think I realized just how desperate I was until that moment, though.

But I know he wants that baby, too. I saw the way he looked at the sonogram picture. I saw the look in his eyes, and the way he fell instantly in love with this tiny little being.

He knows.

He knows that's our baby.

Maybe that's why telling Erica the truth was so important to him; maybe he doesn't ever want our baby to find out that we lied to get him…or her.

I think this was the part of an open adoption that worried me the most—the face to face part. With a closed adoption, there are no names or faces; just a call that your baby has been born and it's time to take it home. If this were a closed adoption, even if she read the wrong file, as long as all the paperwork had the right information on it, how would we ever know? Who would have been hurt? A baby in need would have a home, and two people who have so much love to give…would finally be a family.

Chandler and I will love this baby so much. Two people who love each other as much as we do have love to spare. We have enough for three or four kids at least.

We deserve a baby. We deserve this baby.

I sigh again, my foot tapping as I wait, anxious. On edge.

I want to give Chandler a baby. I don't know if he believes it, but he's going to be such a good father. He has so much to offer a child. I know he'll figure out how to be strict and a disciplinarian, but, maybe more importantly, he's going to be fun. Kids need that. He'll be like Mary Poppins and turn chores into a game and he'll play with our kid and make it laugh, and he'll be so good at kissing boo-boos and drying tears. He has it all of it in him, and he deserves to have a baby.

He deserves a woman who can give him that.

That part may be the most heartbreaking. Not just that I've wanted kids for so long, but how much I want them with Chandler, and how I'll probably never be able to give that to him.

I know this wasn't what he signed up for when he married me. It should be enough that he puts up with all of my "idiosyncrasies" every day. He has the willpower to stay with me no matter how crazy I get about the little things in life. He shouldn't have to deal with this, too.

Not once has he placed any of the blame on me for this. He's been nothing but wonderful and supportive and amazing this whole time. But that doesn't stop me from blaming myself.

It may not make much sense, but, yeah…I blame myself. I went through a lot of anger and self-loathing for a while. Chandler was angry, too, but he just tried to reassure me that these things happen, and that there were always kids who need homes.

That may be true, but it hasn't made this whole process any easier.

And now I may have ruined everything, and we're going to have to wait even longer. Worst of all…someone else will get our baby.

My heart shatters into a million pieces with that thought, and I feel like I'm going to fall over.

Why was I so stupid? Why didn't I just let Chandler correct her from the beginning? Did I really think I could get away with this?

I hear the door creak open behind me and I look, turning around to see my husband walking through the door, his face expressionless. He puts his hands in his pockets and just looks at me.

"You still want that baby?"

A million different things run through mind at once, and all I can do is run to him, throwing myself in his arms as he does a tiny victory dance. He did it! I don't know what he did or how he did it, but…he did it.

I'm sure I'll cry later, but for now…I'm just so happy.

We're getting a baby.

We're going to be parents.

Soon, someone's going to call us "Mommy" and "Daddy."

Oh, my God.

I love this man so much.

And our baby! I love our baby.

We're going to be the best family in the world.