I have never been more nervous than the hour before I met my birth daughter's future adoptive parents. I remember walking up to them in the parking lot, feeling more scared than I ever had in my life.
That fear lasted all of five minutes. I introduced my parents to them, and then they left us alone to talk. Over lunch, we discussed all kinds of things- likes/dislikes, how I'd been feeling, and about their son and the open adoption they have with his birth parents. I liked them very much. They were so down to earth, so funny and real. They were the kind of people I wanted to be in ten years. I loved them, and I could feel that they loved me- not just my baby.
Afterwards we sat and talked with my parents. All was going well, until a seagull flew by and pooped on the hopeful adoptive father. He handled it with such grace and humor that I knew dirty diapers would be no problem for him. I can't really explain it, but that bird was how I knew. I didn't want to meet any more hopeful adoptive parents. They were her parents. Shortly thereafter I emailed them to let them know that they were going to be parents.