come meet your baby boy

 I have found myself telling our adoption story so many times recently. I am not sure if its because this is around the time that we matched with first expectant mom, two years ago. Maybe its because I got a fun new job as an adoption consultant. I am honestly not sure, but there is a part every single time I tell our story that I cannot help but get goosebumps and teary eyed - and I have told this story at least 15 times. 

As many of you know our first adoption was a disrupted match. It was a goose chase for a few days. I remember being confused and broke, lost and hurt. But I still felt a sense of hope for some reason. I knew that we were not done. We knew our adoption had truly failed on a Thursday and on the following Monday we got a text about a baby boy who was born at 3:01PM - he was Hispanic, a stork drop and birth mom was ready to look at profile books. I can tell this story over and over - then I get to this part. 

On Tuesday morning Lisa, our case worker, called and asked if I was near Alejandro. She had a different voice than I had heard before. I wasn't sure what it meant exactly and I was still pretty numb to the chaos that unfolded a couple days before, but remember - I said I had hope. So with the ounce of hope that I had and a smidge of wanting it to happen. I heard, 

'Come meet your baby boy.'

a small cloud was lifted. We were ready to go, but couldn't leave that day due to flights. The next morning we got to the hospital and I remember being so nervous. Like the most nervous I had ever been in my entire life. I walked through the door in the NICU and immediately it was as if time was frozen and not a single second of heartbreak mattered anymore. We knew in that moment that we walked through every second of the mess to get to Miguel. I knew that I would need to process things, I knew that would come with time. But in this moment meeting our baby boy was so bittersweet and that was something to focus on. 

Over the next couple of days, Lisa was very good about reminding me that I would still mourn the loss of baby girl. I did not know that this would happen or how this would look because honestly I felt fine. But then, one night while doing skin to skin with Miggy I remember silently weeping. Alejandro was resting on the couch and woke up to see me crying over our new baby and then I realized what happened. I was processing. I was mourning, but joyful. I was in shock but excited. I as hurt, but healing. Miguel was not a bandaid - I will forever say this. This was a process I walked through for weeks following. I was never mourning what we did not have. I was mourning the fact that this child was being placed in state custody and there was nothing I could do. I was mourning the hurt caused by an expectant mom who was so lost that she created a trail of lie and deceit. I was just mourning. 

But as I say so often, we would walk through it again because we know the outcome. 

I still think about that baby girl, we named her Marlo. I still pray for her often. 

But I would never change where we are now as a family. I trusted that God had us and I knew that our story was not over. God truly had to break me to build me up. I had to loosen my grip fully before I could be an adoptive mom because that title while a beautiful one, can be a tough one. Guys, I do not wake up every morning thinking about the fact that Miguel is my adopted son. I wake up thinking about how he is my son. However, when I see the picture we have framed in his room - the one of us and his birth mama I am reminded that we, 'share,' Miguel. She gave him life. She birthed him. She chose life for him. She chose adoption for her child and she chose us to parent her child.