It is the last week in August after three in the morning when I heard it. I was up late, streaming some TV show on my laptop. My mother yelled for me to wake up. I was already awake, so I rushed into my parents bedroom. I scrambled around, trying to feel for the light-switch on the wall. I finally find it and flip it on. I rush over to my mother. She is panting and holding her belly.

"My water broke," she says, fear lacing every syllable of the sentence.

"Dad, wake up. The baby's coming!" I yell at him while helping my mother up and getting her hospital go bag. My father groans before he realizes what the commotion means.

"Oh!" he says, startled when he realizes what is going on. He throws back the blankets and rushes around the bedroom to get dressed. I take my mother downstairs.

"I'll be right back," I tell her and run up the stairs. I run into my bedroom and close the door. I quickly find a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I grab my phone from where it is charging and put on a pair of socks. On the way down the stairs, I throw my hair up into a quick messy bun. I then rush into the back hallway and almost trip on a pair of shoes that someone left in the way. I curse under my breath. I open the closet and pull on my Converse sneakers. Right then I remember that nobody has woken my brother yet. I rush back up the stairs.

"Brendan!" I say, while banging on his door. He yells at me, complaining. "The baby!" I say before running back downstairs to be with my mother. She is sitting on the chair where I left her, leaning over her belly moaning.

"Deep breaths," I remind her. She gives me a death glare, as if to remind me that she has done this twice before. "Where is my father?" I grumble under my breath as I go back upstairs to get the two guys of the house into the car.

Back upstairs, my brother stumbles out of his room, rubbing his face. His hair has a severe case of bed-head, but at least he managed to put on a pair of jeans. My father is walking causally down the hallway towards us. I push my brother in the direction of our shared bathroom. He grumbles again as he goes in and closes the door.

"We need to hurry," I say.

"We'll be fine," my father says reassuringly. I glare at him. He knows how high-risk my mother's pregnancy is. We need to get to the hospital as soon after labor begins as possible to make sure everything is okay. I leave him and my brother upstairs and go back downstairs to be with my mom.

"How are you doing?" I ask gently as I place my palm on her slumped shoulder.

"Fine," she replies, grimacing.

I sit down on the chair next to my mother. I pull my phone out of my back pocket and look at the screen. It is three fifteen in the morning. I put it back in my pocket just as my brother and father finally make it down the stairs to be with my mother and I. I help my mother up and toss the car keys to my father. He picks up the go-bag and heads out the door to the garage, my brother following on his heels.

"We should go," I say to my mother. She nods and pulls me in for a hug. It is a bit awkward because of her belly, but we make it work. I hold back my tears. I have known for the last eight months that this day would come, but somehow it still feels like a surprise. I hold my mom's hand and we go out to the car. We are leaving with four people, but we will be coming home with five.

We leave the house and I turn off the back hallway light. My mother and I climb into the back of the car together. We hold hands the whole drive to the hospital. My heart is beating heavily in my chest in excitement. I try to calm myself down, but all I can think is that within the next hours, I will be a mother, regardless of the fact that it is through adoption. I will be his or her mother, for better or worse.

We pull up in front of the hospital's emergency area. I help my mother out of the car while my father and brother go to find somewhere to park. I help my mother into the main entrance, just as another contraction takes over her body. I help her sit down in a chair and run up to the receptionist lady.

"I need a doctor," I say, "my mother is in labor!" She looks at me questioningly for a moment, as if she thinks I will suddenly become the pregnant one. She nods and before I know it we are being rushed up to labor & delivery.

Before I know it, Mom is in bed and hooked to a bunch of machines. I catch a few words of what the doctors are saying, but to me it is all jargon. I sit down on the chair next to her bed. It is a while before the doctor comes in to check on my mother. Her face is scrunched in pain and she has a thin layer of sweat covering her skin. The doctor finally comes into the room.

He pulls up a chair and asks Mom a few questions about her pregnancy while beginning his examination.

"All right," he says, "considering your age and a few other factors, I think that an emergency c-section would be the safest option for both you and the baby. Would you be okay with that?"

My mother nods, clearly ready to get the baby out.

"Okay then, we will have you prepped for surgery within the hour." He walks out and leaves the two of us.

"Can you go find Andrew?" I nod and leave the room to go find my father. I find him in the wrong waiting room. I lead my father and brother up to the correct waiting room. I point my father in the right direction and let him go by himself. I am sure that they want some time to themselves. I sit down on the chair next to my brother. He leans his head on to my shoulder and starts to fall asleep. I do not bother him. I pul out my phone, trying to avoid waking him. I begin to play some game to pass the time, although I am not into it so I keep loosing. After about half and hour, my father comes back out and gestures for me to go back in the room. I carefully lift my brother's head off of my shoulder lean it aginst the wall behind him. To my surprise, he does not wake when I move him. I nod at my dad as I pass him and go back into the room.

When I get back there, they already have one of those hair nets on her.

"I want you to be with me when the baby is born," my mom says. "The baby is as much yours as mine." I smile widely and lean in to hug her.

"Thank you," I whisper. One of the nurses comes in and helps me into the sterile scrubs that I will have to wear.

Forty minutes later, a baby girl is delivered. I was there, holding my mothers hand. The doctor handed the baby to my mother. She held the baby on her chest and began to weep for a few minutes while the doctors worked on stitching her up. She then looked up at me. I looked her right in the eyes. I mouthed, "Are you sure?" She kissed the baby's head and nodded. I will never know what she was thinking in those moments or if I would have been able to do the same thing, but she handed the baby to me and I knew the moment I touched her, she was mine forever. Such a massive commitment for a teenager who only turned eighteen less than a month ago. I reached down and picked up the fragile body into my hands. I held her head in my hand and lifted her up to my mouth. I kissed her head before I had to hand her back to the doctors. They wanted to take her and run some tests and whatever else doctors do to newborns.

"Don't worry," the doctor said to my mother, "you will have plenty of time with her later." My mother just nodded, not bothering to explain that I was the one who would be the baby's mother. I stood there as they finished with my mother's stitches and wheeled her into recovery. It did not take long for my mother to fall asleep. I sat down in one of the chairs in the corner of the room and closed my eyes.

I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up when one of the nurses came back in carrying the baby. She placed her in a small crib-like hospital bed. The baby started fussing almost immediately after the nurse left. I went over the crib and picked her up. I held her close to my chest and walked back over to the chair where I sat down holding her in my arms. I slowly rocked her back and forth. It did not take long for her to calm down and fall asleep in my arms. After she was asleep, I considered placing her back in the crib, but I almost immediately decided aginst it as I watched her small form take one breath after another. I sat there for the rest of the night just watching her sleep in my arms. It was probably around seven or eight in the morning when she began to fuss. I looked over at my mother who was still sound asleep. After all, she had only given birth a few hours before. I lift the baby all the way into my arms and press the paging button.

It is only a minute before a nurse appears in the doorway.

"Can I have a bottle with formula?" I ask her. She smiles at me and nods, apparently leaving to go find a bottle.

I walk around the tiny room slowly rocking the baby in my arms. The nurse reappeared a few minutes later with a bottle in her hands. I walk over to her.

"Do you want me to show you how?" she asks kindly.

"Yeah," I say.

"Here," she gestures for me to hand the baby to her. I do very carefully. "Like this," she says while demonstrating to me how to feed her. I nod in understanding. She hands the baby back to me and watches to make sure that I am doing it correctly. She nods after a few minutes in approval. When she finishes the bottle, the nurse demonstrates how to burp, and then change her. Once the baby has fallen back to sleep in my arms, I thank the nurse. She just smiles and walks out of the room. This must be her favorite part of her job. Showing new parents how to care for their new baby.

I return to the chair with the baby. I maneuver myself so that I can reach my phone. I pull it out and text my dad, asking him where he is. It is about a half an hour before he responds saying that he had fallen asleep in the waiting room and asking if I wanted anything from the cafeteria. I texted back saying that I just wanted some coffee. He texted back "okay."
 It is another half and hour before hew comes into the room. He walks in, cautious. Then he sees me awake holding the baby and he smiles. He sets my coffee down on the table next to me. I hand him my phone and mouth, take a picture. He nods in understanding and opens the camera app on my phone. I hear the distinctive click-click as he snaps a few pictures of me and the baby. She will soon be my baby legally, I think. Just as soon as my mother wakes up. I am not in a hurry though. I am perfectly happy sitting here holding her in my arms. Dad asks me if he can stay. I look at him like he is crazy. Why is he asking me if he can stay? I just nod an affirmation.

He is siting in the chair next to mine, watching me. It takes me a moment, but I realize that he wants to hold the baby. I smile and gently place her into my dad's arms. His face lights up. I pick up my well needed coffee and take a hesitant sip. It has cooled off enough that I can drink it without burning my mouth. My father has only been holding the baby for a few minutes when I can hear her beginning to fuss. I look over and take another gulp of the bad hospital coffee. My dad looks at me like a sad puppy. He obviously did not mean to wake the baby, so I give him a reassuring smile. I lift her up into my arms and walk around for fifteen minutes, rocking her until I am sure that she is soundly asleep. I walk her over to the crib and place her down in it ever so carefully. I am grateful that she does not wake up at the movement. I look at my iPhone. It is nine in the morning. I walk back over to the chair and sit down next to my father.

"You are really good at that," he whispers.

"Thanks," I smile. My dad is quiet for a little while after that, so I look over at him. He fell asleep again. I hold back a groan. He wasn't even doing anything! I finish both my coffee and my father's. I end up reading on my phone for the next two hours. If I had tried to take a nap, it would have messed up my sleep schedule, and I do not want that. When we get home, I will get a routine down for the nighttime feedings, but I will be fine with two hours tonight. It's not like this is the first time that I have gone through a day on minimal sleep.

Two hours pass quietly before the baby wakes again. I quickly turn off my phone and go over to her. I lift her into my arms and push the button for the nurse. I need another bottle. This time when the nurse comes in, she brings a large package of the pre-done bottles. I thank her as she leaves. I sit back on the chair and begin to feed the baby. I am rocking the baby and quietly pacing around the room when my mom wakes up. I look at my phone. It is around eleven thirty. She sits up groggily and fumbles around on the table until she finds her glasses.

She immediately sees me holding the baby and she smiles.

"Do you want to hold her? I just fed her."

"No honey, I'm all right."

"Are you sure? Just because I am adopting her doesn't meant that you can't hold her."

"I know, but really I am okay. Where is your father?"

"He's sleeping on the chair," I gesture behind myself with one arm while holding the baby.

"Have you decided on a name?"

"I think so, but I wanted to run it past you first."

"Well, go ahead then."

"I was thinking Addison."

"I like it," she says.

"Are you sure, because I had back-up ones if you don't like that one."

"No, I really do like it"

"Okay then," I say, smiling. I sit down on the end of my mom's bed holding a baby of my own.

My dad sits up, groaning at the pain of falling asleep in such an awkward position.

"Oh, good. We are all awake now. Are you two ready to do this?"

"Yes," I say

"Yes, I am ready," my mother said firmly. He nods and leaves to find the social worker. When he gets back, my dad pulls out the papers and hands my mom a pen. She signed her name. My father then took the pen and signed his name. I then took the pen in one hand while still holding Addison and signed my name.

This is only the first step. I have not completely adopted her yet, but that will come soon. We are all ready to move on the next phases of our lives. Addison had fallen asleep, so I place her back in the crib.

My brother comes into the room, rubbing his eyes. Apparently he had been sleeping the whole time and my father did not want to wake him up.

"Hey buddy," I say cheerily. He looks at me skeptically and around at the people in the room. Of all of the people in our family, he is the least happy about who is going to be Addison's mother. He cannot understand why my parents want to give her up, even if it is only to their daughter. I will still be living at the house at least for the next year, possibly even longer.

"Come here," I say to my brother. I lead him over to Addison's crib where she is sleeping peacefully. I watch his face as it turns from a scowl into a broad grin. I hear a snap as my father takes a picture of us. My mother scolds him for making noise around the baby but he brushes her off. Mom goes back to sleep and Dad and my brother leave to go back to the house to take showers and get something for lunch.

I sit back down in the seat and continue to read my ebook in the quiet of the room. It is not long before Addison begins to fuss again. I get up and go to her. I notice that her diaper needs to be changed, so I change it and rock her gently in my arms as I walk around the room. When she doesn't immediately fall asleep, I begin to whisper-sing popular songs that I know to her. To my disappointment, I realize that I do not know any baby lullabies. She falls back to sleep and I place her back in her bassinet.