Six Years Ago Today

I was anticipating the call because I knew it was coming. I knew the family at the top of the list had rejected (I suppose declined would be a nice way to phrase it, but the act was one of rejection) him because of a very common thing in his family medical history.

Suckers. Their loss was our gain.

The call came just after 8 a.m., when the agency's office opens. I'd already been at work about two hours by then--two very jumpy, fidgety hours. When the phone finally rang, I'm sure I sounded like a babbling idiot, but I managed to express that yes, we wanted to review his paperwork. Yes, please fax it over right away.

Of course, as so often happens when something really important is going on, I couldn't get the husband by phone. My dear friend told me to just get in the car and drive over to his office--this was too important for phone tag. So I did just that. The husband met me in the lobby of his office building, I showed him the three or so pages of information, and I told him everything I knew about that possible concern, the "special need," in his family medical history to get him to understand that this specter was absolutely nothing to fret about.

And that's basically the story of how the husband and I were first introduced to the boy on April 28, 2003.

When we finaled the boy's adoption nearly seven months later, we did so on the same day as the family who had rejected him. After meeting them face to face, my belief was absolutely confirmed that the boy so did not belong with them. The universe wanted him with a...unique family, not a Whitey McWhitey, button-down, tighty whitey-wearing family. And for as...crazed as he makes me, I can't imagine the boy not being my kid--or being with that family. That would have been too cruel.

Happy Referral Day!