Referral Reflections

So when I posted about our referral call in November, I decided to let the pictures do most of the talking. I had to. For the first time in the history of ever, there were NO words in my brain. I could not think of a single thing to articulate to you what that moment was like. But now we are about six weeks removed from that glorious night, and I am ready to give my best efforts to explain to you what it is like to get a phone call telling you that you are a mom.

We were at Adam's mom's house for Thanksgiving. And, to be totally honest, it had been a difficult week. Adam's uncle had passed away unexpectedly on Thanksgiving day, shocking us all. We were gathered around the TV in JoAnne and Mike's living room watching the Iron Bowl and hoping that a Tiger victory would help cheer us up.

At half time, literally as the Tigers were running off the field, my phone rang. A 205 number that I did not recognize.

Me: Hello?

Voice: Hi, Baylor.

It was Catherine. I knew it right away. Phone in my right hand, my left hand shoots out and grabs Adam's arm. Eyes wide. Heart racing. This is it.

Me: Hi, Catherine.

Catherine: How are you guys?

Me: Can you please tell me why you are calling me right now?

Catherine: Well, I am going to make your Thanksgiving a little happier.

I am off the couch in a flash and sprinting into the kitchen. I can't believe it. Years of pain and heartache and love rooting so far down deep in my heart. And here we are. She is going to say it. She is going to say that we have been matched.

Me: Shut up! Shut up Shut up! OK, no. Don't. Tell me.

She asks me if Adam is there and we get her on speakerphone. My heart is pounding out of my chest, and I am clutching Adam, just waiting for my legs to give out.

And she tells us that there is a boy. A boy.

We collapse into each other and there is nothing but the arms of my husband holding me up, as he has been for years. Catherine, bless her, gives us all the time we need. And so we cry. We cry the tears that have been waiting for YEARS to fall. Tears of disbelief. Tears of shock. But mostly, tears of JOY.

She goes on to tell us more about him, and we continue to be amazed by God's hand. This is the information I can't share, but suffice it to say that God outdid Himself in the life of our little man. Wave upon wave of joy crashes over us, and in those moments, there is no one else in the world.

Just us. Just the THREE of us.

And then I ask the question I have been waiting YEARS to ask.

"Can we see him?"

And finally, the answer is "Yes."

We get my computer out and log in to my email. Catherine sends us our referral email. OUR REFERRAL EMAIL! But it doesn't go through! I cannot even handle it. If you know me personally, then you know it takes a whole LOT to ruffle me. But let me tell you something; I am losing it at this point. She tries again. And it pops into my inbox.

"Referral"

Adam is at the computer. My hands are shaking way too much to type or click on anything. The email opens, and we see him in a thumbnail.

I am not breathing.

He opens it.

There he is. My boy.

And my heart shatters into a million pieces, so wholly and completely overwhelmed with pure and unadulterated love for the face in this photo. He is mine. Always has been.

The best way I can think of to explain what that moment was like is to tell you that suddenly it all made sense. All the tears, all the paperwork, all the heartache, all the days and nights with aching arms and a heavy heart. All the ups and downs, the gut-wrenching sobs and desperate prayers. All of those things, in that moment, finally made sense. And I knew that I would do it a thousand times if it meant I could have him.

For almost three years, God had been growing and cultivating a deep love in my heart for the child He would bring us. And I always wondered how I would react when I saw my child for the first time. Now I know. I love you, son. I love you with a deep and unconditional love that has crossed oceans and continents. And I'm coming.