Two years ago last Saturday, we brought home a squinty-eyed, curly-haired one-month old.
To mark the occasion, we had dinner with the social worker who placed Gabriel with us.
She could not believe that we still had her voicemails on our answering machine:
9:05am – “Hey ya’ll! Call me. I’ve got a situation I want to run by you.”
11am – “Hey ya’ll! It’s me again. Trying to track you two down to talk about a potential baby. Give me a call.”
1:00pm – “Alright ya’ll. Really need ya’ll to call me before the end of the day. I’ll try your cell phones again.”
Of course, this was one of the few times that we had decided on a drop-out day, given our recent ups and downs during our 2nd adoption.
Eventually, she did reach us and described the adoptive family this birthmother was looking for – heterosexual, African-American couple with no kids. After rolling our eyes, we said she could throw us in the pool and show our profile, but that we had zero expectations.
One week later, we were holding Gabriel.
She said she just “had a feeling” that this was the one, despite everything to the contrary.
Here’s to being open, staying open, and finally answering the phone.