We’re closing our part-time business, and moving to a new house . . . and boy it is a lot of phone calls, and e-mails, and talking to people, and packing, and driving and getting boxes and more packing, and trying to sell off the last of our merchandise, and we don’t care about anything else except having a baby. Having you come live with us. That’s all that matters.
We both have made plans at our work, to drop everything, fly off, and get you.
We’re taking off from work for months, first mommy, and then me, and if it works out right, then you won’t go to day care until the fall, when your mom goes back to work teaching school.
We’ve been buying and collecting baby items for a few months, now.
We didn’t tell our families about you until Thanksgiving and Christmas time. We don’t want to get everyone hopes up, and then be heartbroken and disappointed if we never get you. Some family members were more excited than others. I can’t really blame them. Your mom is 45, and I’m 47, and we’re going to be old parents.
But no parents have ever loved their little girl as much as we love you.
We bought a baby carrier just the other night. Your mom and I took turns strapping it on ourselves, and pretending we were carrying you around.
We’re getting the house ready for you . . . the Pack & Play playpen has been set up for nearly a week, and we’re getting more furniture soon.
Actually, we looked at buying a different house to raise you in. But then, we backed out, when we learned we might not get you.
This past week, we’ve looked at another house . . . we’re going to buy this house because it will be warmer for you, and you’ll have your own room. It’s a better neighborhood, and you’ll be able to walk to school. It even has a swimming pool.
I look forward to teaching you how to swim.
Things got back on track, and after talking with the lawyer on the phone, the new plan is we fly in when your birth mom goes into labor.
I just started typing my feelings to you, when we learned that we might not see you, but now that it looks like we will see you. I thought I’d share more about us — your future mom and dad.
We’re happily married. We are both in our mid-forties and have long professional careers and advanced degrees. We both feel the Lord working in our lives and our relationship. It was through our shared faith as followers of Jesus that we first met. We both long ago gave up on the idea of having children. But now the happiness we have together can be shared with a child. We love our life together, and thank the Lord for bringing us together. And we thank the Lord for the possible opportunity to share our lives and our love with a child.
To our little girl,
Today I was told that your birth mother has changed her mind, and wants to keep you.
I know that she’s not well, and in the hospital, and that she doesn’t know what she’s doing or saying, or even thinking. She’s confused. I know that today’s situation will give way to another situation, that things may change again, in the next four or five weeks before you’re born. But this is such a difficult and hard time, because we don’t know what’s going to happen.
I’ve been thinking about keeping a journal for you, for you to look back on the process of us adopting you and bringing you home with us.
We have so many hopes and dreams for you, but now we’re not so sure we’ll meet you.