Ten o’clock, Thursday night, the phone rings. It’s our
social worker, “She picked you guys.” WHAT? “She picked you.” YOU’RE KIDDING, RIGHT?
SHE LOOKED AT OTHER PROFILES TOO, RIGHT? Her response, “Yes, she picked you to
adopt her baby.” Pure shock set it. I didn’t scream, I didn’t cry, I didn’t
have a big smile on my face. Shock. I asked a dozen questions to our social
worker of where we go from here. Texas. After ending my call with the social
worker, I emailed the Texas agency to see when, where, how. By ten-fifteen I’m
at Stefan’s bedside shining my bright phone in his face with the picture of the
baby that will likely soon be ours. He swats my phone and indicates “That’s
really bright”. I softly mention that we got chosen and we are waiting to hear
from the other agency to see how we move forward. He rolls back to sleep. I
rush down stairs to research how to quickly find funding for adoption, what do
we pack to since it’s not a hospital bag, but still bringing home a little one.
Stefan wonders down the stairs, he can’t sleep. God is good.
Back up-let’s start at the beginning:
Thursday, four o’clock, a text message came in from our
social worker. She had a profile showing offer for us. A healthy baby, born
just under a week ago. We had very limited time to pray and think about having
our profile shown since the birth mom said she would sign (giving up parental rights) when she picked a family. Our agency works different than some others.
Some give the potential adoptive parents a week to decide, our agency usually
requests an answer somewhere between 45 minutes and 6 hours. Deep breath, time
to pray, called Stefan. He would be home soon, so we could discuss this
together. Together we thought, we don’t have hardly enough money to bring this
baby home, but we knew we could get a bank loan and good family friends have
offered to loan us some money. Five o’clock, we took the plunge, we texted our
social worker back to have our profile shown. God is good. We trust that He
will provide, always and forever.
We know we cannot do this without Him.
With this baby being born, we could be a family of four by
this weekend. For that to happen all the pieces of the puzzle have to fit in
place. The first one, of course, was that the birth mother had to pick our family.
Nine-fifty, our social worker sends a picture of the baby. I see that it’s a
picture and I am hesitant to open it. My phone sits next to me with a blinking
message indication. Should I look at the picture? What if I get attached? It’s
just a picture, right? What if she doesn’t pick us?
Fast forward:
Two o’clock, Friday morning. I finally make it up to bed. It
takes me well over an hour to fall asleep since my brain is thinking a mile a
minute. I try to quiet my head and pray for guidance and a good night sleep.
Six a.m. comes quickly! Gracie is awake and ready to start the day. My mind
quickly moves towards the little baby that is in Texas and the momma that has a
big decision to make. I pray for a smooth day with lots to do and get into
place before we travel. The Texas agent has not contacted me yet, so I don’t
know when we go, that is, if we go. We need confirmation before we travel that
the birth mom has signed. Finally at ten o’clock I get a response from the
Texas agent. She answers my questions, but we still don’t have the big answer, will/when
she sign? Will it be today, tomorrow, not at all? Saying she will sign and
actually signing is a big step. A huge decision, one that I will never be able
to fully understand.
Stefan and I are diligently searching our phones and
computers for flights, or drive time, houses to rent, finding a vehicle large
enough for our growing family. We communicated to a very few close family
members and friends of our current plans. They pray for us and help us make
decisions. We buy three one-way plane tickets. With the unknown of how long it
takes the state to finalize paperwork, we can’t be sure when we will be coming
home with our new child, but we know God is good.
The quiet moments of the day are few. But when they are
there, I pray. Praising God that his plan is perfect. Thanksgiving that he is
growing our hearts for loving this child. Comfort and protection, because with
our gain, it is a loss for the birth momma.
We book our house we will be renting since it might be up to
ten days that we are there. My mother is traveling with us to take care of Gracie
while giving us time to bond with baby and to have several meetings with the
birth mom. Stefan rents a vehicle, we sign a loan document at the bank. I pick
up baby clothes from a friend, cash from another friend, and drop the dogs off
at the dog sitter.
I’m home by seven-thirty. The house is mess. We haven’t packed.
I haven’t eaten anything but a hot dog all day and quickly consume tortilla
soup. I pick up Gracie’s room and get all of her clothes she needs to be gone
for the next week to ten days. Since we are renting a home, we have laundry
access, so traveling with less is okay. Put Gracie to bed, Stefan makes some
coffee and we start. Full speed, we clean up the entire house, pack all the
things we would need for a new baby, pack Gracie’s clothes, toys, and things to
entertain her. Last thing on my list is to pack my clothes and essentials.
Stefan starts putting the luggage, carseats, and stroller in to the car. We are
still waiting for the call, text or email that birth mom signed. If she doesn’t
sign tonight, we will be on the plane early tomorrow morning heading to Texas before the
birth mom would even have a chance to sign. I named it flying by faith. I put
the last items in the suitcase and push it against the wall. I walk into the
bathroom to get my pajamas on and get ready for bed.
Ten o’clock, Friday night. The phone rings. A number I do
not know, but I know I should answer it. It’s the agent from Texas. She has a
warm voice, but her speech has already been prepared. She tells me the mother
has chosen to parent. Still, God is good.
This past Monday, we had to appear before a judge, answer some simple questions regarding our adoption and Baby A and make our adoption legal and final. The judge signed the final decree making Baby A official ours.
