OK. I can't keep this in one minute longer.
We HAVE A REFERRAL!
Holy smokes. I can't believe it myself. We are totally beside ourselves with delight and joy. Our baby is a beautiful boy, with a sweet little smile and big brown eyes. He's a gorgeous little peanut who has succeeded in melting our hearts already.
We heard the great news on Thursday afternoon. I was in Madison, standing amid 35,000 angry protesters and trying to figure out how to capture the historic events I was witnessing. I was standing on the street, about to catch up with some other photographers when I pulled out my phone. Missed calls from The Man and a text message.
Call me ASAP.
I called and he was very casual. Like he was calling to ask where the new jar of peanut butter was. I was slightly annoyed. Until he said...
"Beth called. We have a referral."
And that's when I had the weirdest thought. Thank goodness I'm wearing waterproof mascara.
Because I've been crying ever since. What ensued after that call is the adoption version of the parents freaking out when a woman's water breaks.
Through our tears I tried to get a few details about our boy. But The Man was so surprised at the call that he forgot to ask for details! Yep, not a single one. He just hopped in the car and headed for the agency's office to pick up the referral package.
Meanwhile, I was standing on the street trying to grasp the fact that we were parents. I stumbled into the other photographers, probably looking totally out of my mind...tears running down my face and babbling that I was a mom and had no idea what to do now. My friend Tom knows we are in the process, and thank goodness he was there when I got the call.
Tom had a plan for me. "First, you are calling {our boss} and telling him you are heading back to Milwaukee." So I did. When my boss answered his phone, I just started shouting, "I can't stay here. I have to go, I have a baby". It took him a few minutes to understand who was calling him and what the hell I was talking about. Thankfully he totally understood what was happening and told me to get home and take care of business.
"Now, you are going to get a cab and have them take you to your car or you'll be wandering all over Madison for months," Tom says. Since I didn't have any cash, he walked me out to a cash machine where I input the wrong number 3 times before finally getting it right. And then aimed me towards the cab stands before he went back into the protesting crowd. He's a good friend.
The Man, meanwhile, was doing his own crazy daddy dance. He was trying to call our family members, take Gus out for a potty break, and then head for the agency. But he couldn't stay on task. He would pick up his car keys while talking on the phone, and then set them down somewhere when he realized he needed to take Gus out. He'd then take Gus outside, get distracted on the phone, return to the house and start searching for his keys. Once his keys were found, he couldn't remember if Gus actually went to the bathroom or not, so the entire routine started again. Poor Gus went out about 5 times in 15 minutes. I'm not sure if he ever did go or not.
The Man finally made it to the agency, and headed back home, calling me on the way to share more details. Our son is 7 months old. 17 pounds. Beautiful. Tears and sobs over the phone line as he tried to describe him and tell me his history.
Send a picture already! (Thank goodness for iPhones!)
And then I saw his face. He looked familiar, like we had known one another a long time ago and were finally reconnected. He looked just as I knew he would. He looked perfect.
I finally made it back to Milwaukee, despite the best efforts of every slow driver in the state who seemed to have convened on the exact path I was traveling. I busted in the house and jumped into The Man's arms. We poured over photos and our baby's referral information. Reading and re-reading.
And then sat on the couch, shell-shocked.
Holy smokes. We're parents.
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(Due to agency rules, we aren't allowed to post them here. But we can share them through email!)
