Well, I officially have a "school-aged" child. One that is not an infant or toddler, one not in preschool, but a six year old in Kindergarten. Kinda crazy when I think about it. I can't believe how 6 years has flown. I mean, I know people say that all the time about how time flies, but I just can't believe 6 years has come and gone. I actually made it fine last week, Sam's birthday week, until the night before his birthday. Eddie was in Honduras and Eli had spent the night with Meme and it was just me and Sam, the then, almost 6 year old. We were talking about his party at school the next day and what we were going to do for his big day and I said, "Wow, Sam, tonight is the last night I will hold you and cuddle with you being five." Yep, shouldn't have thought it, but for sure not voiced it. After he finally went to sleep, I cried myself to sleep.
I got to thinking about how many times I had shared his awesome, sweet birth story with different people, but realized I had never written it down. So, I decided I would take advantage of blogger and let it get his story down before these two boys drive me so crazy I forget all the details!
Brad, my first husband, and I had wanted a child for quite some time. We had tried for a couple of years and began praying in a different direction as to what God may have for us to start a family. I can only remember praying that diligently and fervently one other time in my life. I wanted more than anything to be a mama and the doctors, after exhausting their measures, ruled us as infertile.
We had already heard of an adoption agency in Utah through a radio broadcast from French Camp Academy and my mom had actually met a woman who adopted from that agency the very same day she heard about it on the radio. Tell me God does not speak! Wow. If that was not enough for me to go ahead with it, we asked our specialist about any advice on agencies, and he gave us the same agency we had already been praying about.
Needless to say, I called, filled out all the paperwork as fast as I could, completed the homestudies as fast as we could and waited.
After 2 birthmothers looked at our profile and turned us down, I got a call on Thanksgiving night, 2004. It was our caseworker and she had big news. A birthmother had had our profile for a couple of days and SHE HAD CHOSEN US. Those words rang over and over in my ears, as I asked her if I was dreaming. The baby was a little boy and was due around the middle of December.
We flew out to Salt Lake City December 7th and had a lunch date scheduled for the next day with our caseworker and Shannon, our birthmother. I was so incredibly nervous as I walked into an empty Applebees. From the door, I saw in a back booth, a long, dark haired lady that looked as if she were ready to deliver a baby any day. But not any baby. My baby. We exchanged hellos, hugs, and sat down to eat. I couldn't keep my eyes of her, and she me, as we ate. I found myself feeling as though we had known each other forever. Our bond was instant. As we left the restaurant that day, she told me she would like for me to be in the delivery room with her. This was something else I had prayed so hard for.
They induced Shannon on Friday, December 10 around 2 p.m. We were able to stay in the room with her throughout labor, playing UNO, cards, talking about our families, and just trying to get in 24 years of life. Sharing, laughing, crying, then doing it all over again.
Around 6, the doctor came in and said it was time to usher in this baby. Brad excused himself from the room and I stood on Shannon's left side clutching her hand in mine. At 7:02 p.m. she pushed my baby out. My Sam. The one who stole my heart. The one who made me a mama. I stood there motionless staring into her face, as she said, "Get over there with him," I just hated to leave her. As I walked over to the bed where he was lying, I started to cry and one of the nurses said, "Oh, this must be your first nephew." I said, through tears, "No, this is my son." I knew when I looked into his face, he was mine.
There were no fears, no doubts. I knew that God had orchestrated this through two women from different areas of the country. I was able to watch as he had his very first moments, his first bath, and able to give him his first feeding.
We spent the next few days with Sam in Utah, beginning our new family, and then brought him home to Mississippi the next week. Those special, sacred days in Utah are some that I cherish, as those are some of the only days we were able to spend with Brad as a part of our family.
Someone once said that adoption was like a rescue. They said to think of where that child would be if someone had not taken it to love. To that, I say this, Sam rescued my. Sam saved me. Anyone would have loved him, taken him in and held him forever. In some of my darkest days after Brad's death, I held on to him. Through his innocent face, I saw God's promise of a hope and a future. Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
Today, this little boy is still the light of my life. He is so quick spirited, full of energy, loves his mama, and takes extra good care of his little brother. I know God is going to use him for something so good, but right now I am enjoying being his mama and watching him grow everyday.
I am so blessed, and I am so thankful. God is so good.
Happy Birthday to my Sweet Sam! I love you to the moon and back.