It was Easter Sunday, a few years ago. My three-year-old son and I were celebrating the holiday at my mother-in-law’s while my husband and some friends attended a bluegrass festival in a rural section of North Carolina. We’d been “active” with our adoption agency for just over two months, and were sure that a trip would be fine so early in the wait.
Because of my husband’s lack of cell reception at the festival, our once-a-day call had just ended with a confirmation that we’d talk when he got to the airport the next day for his journey home. I saw I had a missed call from our lawyer and listened to a message asking me to call back immediately. I wondered what was up — it had to be something to make him call on Easter!
Could it be that we were getting the adoption call?
A potential couple we had known about the week before had dropped out of sight. We didn’t think much about it, as we had very little information and no commitment was made on either end about the baby. We did know the baby was due at the end of May. When I called our lawyer, he told me that that couple had phoned him at 2 A.M. to say they’d had the baby and they wanted to place the child immediately! I hadn’t expected what’s called a “baby born” adoption call and was so shocked that I didn’t even ask the sex of the child. There was a caveat. My husband and I both had to fly south and be at the hospital by 4 P.M. the next day. All I said was, “Let the games begin.”
I began by calling my husband, but, as I’d expected, his phone was turned off. I plunged ahead, booking a flight, hotel, and car, leaving my son at my mother-in-law’s, and rushing home to pack. Thus began my all-night mission to reach my husband to let him know we were going to be parents again, tomorrow! I called the friends who were with him, their spouses, and their parents, to no avail. I called the festival to have him paged, but the person I spoke with laughed and said, “There are 40,000 people here, Sweetie.” I kept on trying to call my husband and must have left 20 messages, as did the rest of my family. That made me feel as if I were doing at least something. I went ahead and changed his flight to go directly south, instead of home, and prayed he would call me as we had planned. I went to bed at 3 A.M. with a heavy heart.
After a few hours’ sleep, I woke up, got to the airport, and waited and waited and waited for him to call. My lawyer called to check in and I had to admit that my husband still had no idea what was going on and might not be able to make it down that day. The lawyer confirmed that he had to be there.
As I stepped onto the jet way, my phone rang. What a relief! “Why are there 60 messages on my phone?” my husband asked. Holding back my tears of joy, I told him what I knew. He was able to make the changed flight, and we met at the hospital just in time to sign the paperwork.
My husband looked a little disheveled after four days of camping, and we were both in shock about the events of the last 24 hours, but we were thrilled to meet our beautiful new baby boy together. We’ll never forget our Easter adoption adventure.