It was one year ago, on July 5th, our sweet Boston was born. I remember the day brilliantly. It was around three in the afternoon, the day after Fourth of July. Out of nowhere we got the phone call, our baby had arrived! Up until this point, we didn’t know if we were having a boy or a girl! I would have sworn on my own grave that we were getting a girl. I had even washed and pressed all Vienna’s newborn outfits. Ethan and Lee kept telling me it was for sure going to be a boy.
I have never been so happy to be wrong…and Lee right!
Our beautiful birthmother called and said, “You’ve got a little boy!”
“He is here waiting for you!”
I don’t think Lee and I have ever got into a car so fast!
In just 20 short minutes, we were at the Hospital. Naturally, I fell completely a part in the car. I was overjoyed and a mess! Mascara nearly everywhere. Our little boy had arrived. Oh my goodness.
I do not pretend to hold the talent to describe the feelings a mother has before meeting her child for the first time. It is indescribable. Your heart is overjoyed and fluttery and anxious, but you are filled with an immense peace as well. You could break into tears at any moment, you feel fragile and strong at the same exact time… and oh-so proud. Here is your son. Here is your tiny child that God has appointed you. How could you be entrusted with such tiny perfection? When could you have done anything to deserve this? And then there is also that vote of confidence from Heaven you feel which moves your heart towards action of being more than you are – to rise to the occasion of being in the presence and raising this spirit. I cannot describe it – but it is wonderful.
There was some drama at the hospital. They wouldn’t let us see our baby boy – even though the birthmother was telling the staff that she wanted us bonding with the baby from that moment on. It was a Sunday. Sundays for adoptive parents at hospitals are the opposite of heaven. Social workers aren’t on call. Red tape is everywhere. They turned us away at the hospital. They told us to go home and maybe tomorrow if the social worker showed up – we could see our baby. They didn’t really realize who they were talking to. This wasn’t my first rodeo! My baby was in that hospital and needing to be with his mommy!!! Paperwork had been signed. Needless to say, sixty minutes and a few heated calls later – Lee and I were scrubbing in to enter the nursery. The hospital staff was apologetic and adorable.
I walked into the nursery and my breath was taken away. There under a heated lamp with only a tiny white diaper on was the most beautiful little baby boy I had ever seen. I asked the nurse if I could touch him. She said, yes. As I placed my hand on this little newborn back, the most perfect peace came over my soul. It was a stillness that quieted and slowed the pace of every breath. It was at this moment that I knew God was telling me who this little boy was and what he would later become. He wasn’t any one’s little boy – he was mine – and I was privileged to have him. God answers our deepest prayers in the most profound quiet ways.
A year later, we couldn’t be more in love. Boston is so much more than we could have ever wanted. His superb personality has delighted us to the core and continues to do so daily. Something I can honestly say about Big B (and all my children) is that I know God must love me because He gave me him.
God trusts us so much more than we know. He sees so much more in us than we allow ourselves to believe. He beckons the best out of us even as we fearfully step forward. And just like our Boston, He truly gives us more than we deserve. I’m so grateful to a God who would give me such a beautiful gift as Boston.
Happy Birthday B! We love you,
