The nurse pauses, and stares at me, cracking her gum. "O.K. It's Hayden Abdul then." And that was that. Murmurs from the crowd sounded shocked at the name, ("How weird!" "Who would adopt a baby with a name like THAT?") either proving why the Stars and Bars still fly over Georgia, or that people just get freaked out over nothing. The nurse took Hayden Abdul to the nursery, put him in a diaper, fastened a new name tag to his breast, and placed him in the galley window to await adoption.
Adjacent to the patch are two offices decorated in a thirties industrial style. These are the 'adoption offices'. The nurse tells me this is where the new parents sign the papers and take an oath entrusting the child's care with them for life.
"Some of them just draw a big 'X' on the paper since they can't write," she adds.
Loitering by the office, I witness a swearing-in ceremony. It appeared as if the real parents were taking it a bit harder than the children. When asked by the 'Adoption Agent' what it felt like to be a new Grandmother, the visibly shaken mother protested, "I'm no Grandma! I'm not old enough!"
But she was $200 poorer. According to my inside source, fantasy can be very expensive, although it costs a bit less than an actual infant. "I'm not really a nurse either," she adds.