\nIt was this. The time we had been anticipating. Choosing baby clothes, experiencing small kicks in the middle of the night, and nine months of delight. We spent nine months wondering if our unborn child would have Emma\u2019s golden hair. My angular cheekbones? The dimples that were inherited? Everything else in the room was broken by a piercing wail. The baby was here.\n
I looked over and saw the doctor gently lifting our baby, her face wrinkled up as she drew her first breaths, her tiny limbs wriggling. My eyes pricked with tears. She was flawless. But Emma\u2019s terrified scream, which I had not anticipated, broke the moment.\n
When mom cradles her dead kid in her arms, her husband whispers something she won\u2019t soon forget – Selflovers\n In an attempt to maintain composure, one of the nurses gave a soft grin. She remarked, \u201cShe\u2019s still attached to you,\u201d as though to reassure my wife that nothing was wrong. Emma, however, gasped for air and shook her head angrily. \u201cIt\u2019s not feasible! Never in my life have I dated a Black man!\n The words were piercing and weighty as they hung in the air. Everyone was uncertain of how to respond, and the room remained strangely still. As I turned to face our daughter, a gorgeous newborn girl with skin that was substantially darker than either of ours, my heartbeat hammered in my ears. However, her features were definitely ours.\n Emma was shaking next to me, and it felt like the whole world was tilting beneath her. I grounded her by squeezing her hand and making her look at me. I stated unequivocally, \u201cShe\u2019s our baby,\u201d in a firm voice. \u201cThat\u2019s the only thing that counts.\u201d\n Emma\u2019s gaze shifted from our daughter to me and back again. As a nurse gently placed the infant in her arms, she gasped. At first, she seemed hesitant to touch her, as though she was scared of something she didn\u2019t comprehend. However, something changed the instant our daughter\u2019s little fingers encircled her pinky.\n She loosened her shoulders. Something softer replaced the stiffness in her face. She felt a mixture of relief, tiredness, and love as tears filled her eyes. She let out a trembling breath. She muttered, \u201cShe\u2019s gorgeous.\u201d The room seems to breathe once more. The nurses looked at each other but continued working. With a nod, the doctor and I exchanged a quiet agreement.\n The days that followed were a haze. I found myself watching our kid nonstop while Emma recovered, trying to figure out what was going on. She had my chin, my nose, and even the same tiny frown I had as a newborn, so I knew without a doubt that she was my. However, Emma\u2019s tirade persisted.\n She had been so convinced, not because I had any suspicions or doubts about her. Emma was the first to propose the DNA test. \u201cI just need to know,\u201d she said one evening in a little, nearly embarrassed voice. \u201cI do love her.\u201d But I must comprehend.\n So we did it. We waited after sending off the samples. Two weeks later, the results were received. Emma opened the email with shaking hands. My heart was racing as I stood behind her. As she read, she covered her mouth with one hand and gasped.\n The screen showed her ancestry record, which in bold letters verified what we had never known: Emma had generations of African ancestry. She turned to face me, tears streaming down her cheeks. \u201cI didn\u2019t know,\u201d she muttered. \u201cAll this time, I was unaware.\u201d\n I kissed the top of her head as I drew her into my arms. I muttered, \u201cIt doesn\u2019t change anything.\u201d \u201cWe own her. She was always. Emma laughed softly and drippingly. \u201cI suppose my panic was in vain.\u201d I grinned. \u201cWell, people experience that during childbirth.\u201d She pushed me and rolled her eyes, then turned to face our daughter, who was now soundly asleep in her cradle. There were no more questions after that. Just love. The world had its questions, of course.\n Members of the family arched their brows. In supermarket stores, strangers made remarks on the discrepancies. \u201cIs she adopted?\u201d some even questioned. Emma would initially become uneasy when asked those questions because she wasn\u2019t sure how to react. Then, however, she would smile and declare, \u201cNo,\u201d with utter assurance.\n We own her. We vowed to nurture our kid with pride in all facets of her background as the years went by. We studied the customs, background, and cultures associated with Emma\u2019s DNA as we dug deeper into her newfound ancestry. We made sure our kid never doubted her place in the world by surrounding her with love.\n She played with her fingers while sitting on Emma\u2019s lap one evening when she was around five years old. She said, \u201cMommy?\u201d \u201cWhat causes my skin to differ from yours?\u201d Emma brushed a curl from her forehead and grinned. \u201cBecause you are unique, my dear. You had a lovely past that we both shared. \u201cLike a mix?\u201d she tilted her head in question. \u201cExactly,\u201d I remarked as I sat next to them. \u201cLike the most exquisite painting, with both Mommy\u2019s and Daddy\u2019s colours.\u201d Satisfied with the response, she smiled and resumed playing.\n \u201cThank you for reminding me that day in the hospital,\u201d Emma muttered as she sought for my hand as we watched her sleep that night. \u201cFor what purpose?\u201d \u201cThat she belongs to us,\u201d she declared. \u201cThat was all that was ever important.\u201d And I knew without a doubt that I would always be there for them as I gazed at my daughter, who was so lovely and full of love. through each query. through each obstacle. through everything. Because appearances weren\u2019t important in family. It wasn\u2019t.\n It has to do with love.\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" There was an almost electric sense of expectancy in the delivery room. Emma, my wife, was lying on the hospital bed with her fingers clenched around mine and a look of excitement mixed with fatigue. A dreamlike atmosphere was created by the quiet voices of the nurses, the regular beeping of the monitors, and the\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":115262,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_seopress_robots_primary_cat":"none","_seopress_titles_title":"","_seopress_titles_desc":"","_seopress_robots_index":"","_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[657,642],"tags":[818],"class_list":{"0":"post-115269","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-love-and-relationships","8":"category-moral-story","9":"tag-moral-touching-stories"},"jetpack_featured_media_url":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/02\/black-baby.jpg","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/115269","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=115269"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/115269\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":115273,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/115269\/revisions\/115273"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/115262"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=115269"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=115269"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lorevista.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=115269"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\n\u201cThis isn\u2019t my child!\u201d The room became quiet. The nurses froze. The doctor paused in mid-step. I thought my wife would be overwhelmed, perhaps simply in shock from giving birth. However, the expression in her eyes was one of utter incredulity rather than simply fatigue.\n