It seems like just yesterday that I was sitting at work and received THE CALL. That was at about 3:00 on a Friday afternoon. My case worker called to tell me that a little boy would be waiting for us at LDSFS the very next day. We could pick him up at 1:00 TOMORROW. This was beyond exciting because we had been waiting to adopt for almost 4 years. And the day we were to pick him up was the day before Mother's Day.
After the call, I hung up the phone and tried to continue working. As if. There was no way I could concentrate. My husband was in school and I could not call him. I didn't want anyone else to know about this news before him. After about 20 minutes of ridiculousness, I told my boss I didn't feel well and went home.
I stopped at a Hallmark store and got one of those "It's a Boy" signs. I paced around our apartment. I looked at the boxes of clothes in my Baby Hope chest. Somehow I always knew that we would have a boy first. At one point I refused to go to any more baby showers, unless I bought something for myself as well. So the fact that we had such short notice was OK. I had everything. A car seat. A crib that had been sitting a box for 3 years. Boxes of clothes. Bottles. Diapers. I took things out and washed them.
Finally it was time to pick up my husband. He was surprised to see me because I should have been at work. Somehow I managed to make small talk all the way home. He walked in and saw the sign. I started jumping up and down. It was so good to have someone else know about this great news.
That night I had to go to a play practice for a play I was in at church. For some reason I really didn't want to tell anyone about our news yet. It was as if I told, it would break the spell and not really happen. So I just tried my best to act normal. Again as if. I stumbled over lines I had known for weeks. Every now and then I would go out in the hall and get a drink, and my excitement would just burst out and I would jump up and down again.
Somehow the hours passed. It is one of life's little ironies that the last good night of sleep you will have before you pick up your baby is not good at all because of the excitement.
Finally all was ready. Finally it was time. Finally all the forms and tests and interviews and years of waiting were over. We loaded the car seat into the car. And headed off, never to be the same again.
We arrived at the agency and spoke with the workers. They told us how sure our birth mother was that we were the family for her son.
At last it was time. They brought him in and placed him in my arms. Words are inadequate to express the joy of that moment. But as painful as the years of waiting and watching others have what I desperately wanted, the joy of that moment made it all worthwhile, and perhaps even more sweet.
He was perfect in every way. I still remember that first car ride home. Nervously watching him and wondering if he was OK.
We had told two of our friends at this point and they came over and visited. We called our families and shared the good news. Many hours were spent on the phone sharing our good fortune.
The first night went pretty well. And the next morning I dressed him in the cutest little outfit with a tie and we went to church.
Imagine the stir we made as we walked in with our very own baby. People were so happy for us. And again I wondered about the many Mother's Days spent in tears, and how now I was celebrating the best Mother's Day ever.
Honestly my family and friends were extremely worried about how I was going to survive another childless Mother's Day. The Lord must have known that I was at the end of my rope, because He blessed me with the most wonderful Mother's Day ever.
And I am forever grateful to a brave and selfless birth mother who wanted her son to have a mother and a father. Someday I know that we will meet and embrace each other. I look forward to that day.
And now eighteen years have come and gone. There have been good times and hard times. But I have been so blessed to have this son in my life.
I picked some of my favorite pictures of him to celebrate today.
I love this picture of his sweet babiness. Can you see his little whirlpool on the top of his head? He still has that today.
Here is he is in first grade. Missing front tooth and all.
These eyes could melt the coldest stone heart. So precious.
I loved cheering him on at football games. Hard to believe he is only 15 in this picture.
This was taken two days ago. He is one of the leads in the spring musical "The Lady Pirates of Captain Bree." He plays an English Lord named Bidwell. We went to see it Tuesday night and he did an amazing job. I love the way he can manipulate his eyebrow.
Now I must go and bake 65 cupcakes for the cast and crew tonight. Wish me luck! He will spend his birthday on stage. How fun!