My worst fear, when Walter and I were going through fertility treatment, was suffering a neonatal or late term pregnancy loss. I think it’s every infertiles worst nightmare, to fight so hard and for so long and come so close to achieving the dream of a child, only to have it snatched away at the very end.

Adoptive parents face a similar fear, adoption loss. Adoption loss was/is my worst fear, it was the reason Walter and I put off adopting for so many years prior to Ava’s birth.

This week, we got THE CALL, the call we’ve been waiting for for more than a year. Our SW called to say there was a baby for us, a son. We immediately dropped everything and flew to Cape Town to fetch our son. We prepped Ava that she was going to have a baby brother and she was going to big a big sister. We were so excited, so happy, to finally be a family of 3 become a family of 4.

We met our son on Wednesday, he is beautiful, content, chilled little boy and I started to feel those familiar stirrings of love for him. How could I not, he is perfect and completely innocent.

Ava was completely taken with him. Helping to change his nappies, stroking his hair and saying how cute he is and how much she loves him.

He was ours for only 7 hours before we had to return him as his birth mother had retracted consent.

My heart is broken and my head is a mess. I’m battling to come to terms with this loss. I’m battling to come to terms with Ava’s confusion over where her little brother went. I’m battling to come to terms with all that has happened. I feel betrayed, angry, confused and most of all, I feel lost.

I will write more about this experience as my mind settles over the next few week’s, for now, there is much noise in my head and sadness and confusion in my heart.