If you look back at my calendar for 2009 you will see that Wednesday December 2nd was scheduled to be a very busy day. Faith had an early visit with her birth-mom and had to be dropped off at 8:30am. Lilli and Noah had to be at preschool at 9. Faith would have to be picked up at 10:30, Lilli & Noah at noon. I was scheduled to work 1-6 and then handle Kids Church services at 7 for Nate who was on a business trip in San Antonio.
Everything was going smoothly. We were up-and-at-em bright and early. Everyone made it to their morning appointments without a hitch. I picked Faith up from her visit and headed home feeling very much like super-mom. I remember the moment so clearly. I was standing at the rear passenger door of our van getting Faith out of her car seat when my phone rang. I almost missed the call because I couldn't successfully fish the phone out of my purse with Faithie on my hip. I picked it up on the last ring and the voice on the other end would bring my ultra-busy day to a halt, wipe my over-scheduled agenda clean of all previous engagements. I was going to be a mom.... again.
If you are the mother of biological children, imagine all the important moments of pregnancy rolled into one.... seeing two lines on a pregnancy test, hearing your child's heartbeat on the doppler at week 12, seeing their tiny form at week 20 on the sonogram, hearing the doctor say "congratulations, it's a boy" at delivery. Taking a phone call like the one I took on December 2nd of 2009, is like feeling all those emotions, all that excitement, in a matter of minutes instead of 9 months.
I ran into the house, plopped Faith down in the living room, and grabbed something to write on... the back of a bank-statement envelope (I still have it and laugh every time I see it). For those of you who know his first name (which is not, in fact, James) I have his actual first name written on that envelope in the feminine form of the name, and I must confess that for the first part of the conversation I thought he was a girl.
I hung up with the social worker and did what any expectant mother would do when she finds out that she's going to have a baby in four hours. I called the baby's father.... who did not answer the phone. So I called him again.... and again he didn't answer. I gave up and called my mom... who did not answer. I called my dad.... who did not answer. I called Nate again... no answer. I called my pastor.... no answer. Are you beginning to see a pattern here?!
At this point, my cousin Val, who drove an hour to babysit while I was at work, pulled in the driveway and I literally DASHED out the front door in excitement. What do I yell to her as she comes up the walk? Not "We're getting a baby!" Nope, not me. I blurt out "I don't need you to babysit after all! I called off work!" She stops halfway to the house and kinda glares at me with a look that says "And you couldn't have called me BEFORE I drove all the way here?!" After a little bit of back peddaling and speed talk on my part, Val and I screamed and jumped up and down and did a happy girlie dance on the front porch. She was gracious enough to stay with me the rest of the day, (for the next two weeks really) and help me as I adjusted to life with four kids. I am more grateful to her than I can adequately express, and my memories of the beginning of Sweet Baby's life will always be inter-connected with her kindness.
The rest of the day went by in hyper-speed. The big kids were picked up from school. I told Nate from 1400 miles away that he was going to be coming home to an infant son. Crib bedding was washed. A carseat was added to my van. I was almost hit by a pickup truck running a stop sign. Bottles and formula were purchased. Family and close friends were called. (Or called me back is more accurate).
And before I knew it, I was standing in the lobby of Children Services holding a tiny,beautiful, perfect, 5 pound baby boy. And in that moment more than just my busy day was changed. My universe shifted... expanded just a little.... and suddenly I was the mother of four.