Welcome to the World

After getting through another Mother's Day I returned ready to face the last few weeks of school.  While I have some great students and families, I was burned out and ready for an extended break.  Little did I know the break would come in an unexpected form...

Last Wednesday we received a long-awaited update from the agency about the expectant mother, informing us she was ok.  No sooner had we breathed a sigh of relief we received a second text -- a friend of the mama's had just informed the agency that her water had broken.

Shock didn't begin to describe what we felt.  I immediately stepped into the hallway to call Husband, who was thankfully working from home that day.  We began to brainstorm all of the things we needed to do should we suddenly have to hit the road.  It was an agonizing wait for a follow-up text, but eventually we were told that mama was still in labor and she would let us know when to make our move.  I left work early, leaving instructions for a substitute and wondering if that would end up being my last day.  Together Husband and I scrambled -- making lists, grabbing what few supplies we already had, packing clothes, getting gas in the car.  Then, we had no choice but to just sit on the couch and wait.

Finally, the news came -- the baby was here and it was a boy!  We both burst into tears, not really knowing what would happen next but hoping it would be all that we wanted.  We hurriedly informed our families and a few loved ones, knowing the green light to leave could come soon.  At 4:45pm, we were told that mama wanted us to come. We jumped in the car and began the eight hour drive.  I can still see Husband's face as we prepared to walk out of the house; he looked at me, took my hand, and said, "Let's go get our son."

We arrived at 1:30 in the morning, exhausted but unable to really sleep.  I sent hastily prepared lesson plans for my classes before climbing into bed for a few hours of rest.  We set an early alarm, although both of us were wide awake long before.  Would we meet him today?  What would he look like?  Would we meet mama, too?  It was too much and not enough all at the same time.

Eventually we made our way to the hospital, where we were kindly provided a room and told we could stay there for the day bonding with the baby.  We sat anxiously, waiting for him to come from the nursery.  At long last the door opened and we saw him for the first time.  Tears were streaming down our cheeks as the nurse handed him to me.  She quickly showed us his diapers and forumla before slipping out the door, leaving the three of us together.  

That day and the next was a blur as we slowly learned how to feed and change him.  We spoke quietly, almost as if we were afraid if we bothered someone they'd make us leave.  Both days flew by so quickly, and while we were reluctant to leave at dinner time we knew we had much to do to prepare to hopefully take him back to our hotel.  We ran to Walmart to stock up on clothes and diapers and other basics, and the next night we went to Target to get the things we'd forgotten at Walmart.  We did laundry and smiled as we folded his new tiny clothes in anticipation of his arrival.

We also spent time with mama, which to me was the hardest part.  We were so scared when we heard she wanted to meet us and -- despite initially thinking otherwise -- the baby.  Having had so little contact with her, we worried that any little thing we said or did might cause her to change her mind; it would have absolutely been her right to do so, which had always been painfully clear.  There were some awkward moments, but in all honesty the meeting seemed to put all of our minds at ease.  Her story is not ours to tell, but we mean it when we say we love her and that we know she means it when she says the same for us.  She was discharged before the baby, and we were honored to have time with her before she left.

Our time at the hospital was constantly interrupted by calls and texts from family, friends, the lawyers, the agency, social workers, and more.  We knew the general process, but nothing could prepare us for the details involved.  On the day mama was scheduled to sign, I could hardly think.  I was quiet, lost in my head.  Although I continued to hold the baby just as I had before, I almost couldn't look at him.  I had spent the last few days trying so hard not to fall in love with him, because if I did and things fell through I wasn't sure my heart would ever recover.  We knew approximately when things should have been completed, and I constantly stared at my phone as I was torn between optimism and dread.

At one point the hospital photographer came.  Mama had declined the visit, saying it was not her place but ours.  We decided to proceed with the small session -- the pictures would serve as a lovely souvenir or a bittersweet momento.  As she showed us the pictures she had taken, the phone finally rang.

I was holding the baby when the lawyer casually announced that the papers were complete.  Husband and I stared at each other in disbelief as we both started to cry.  As the photographer kindly stepped out, we found ourselves with only a few moments to celebrate.  The phone constantly rang with well-wishes and updates.  We also suddenly found ourselves preparing for the baby's discharge.  After a whirlwind of activity we were finally alone with him, ready to put him in the car seat that had been stored in a closet for so long.  It didn't feel real yet.  Husband adapted more quickly, finding reasons to introduce everyone we passed on the way to the car to our son.  For me I didn't start to let it sink in until we were back in the hotel.  After three days of noise and activity it was quiet.  He was laying in the quickly purchased bassinet taking a nap, and Husband and I just sat there and stared at him.  I was finally able to fully take in his face and his features and realize they were ours to love.  We were both up with him every few hours that first night, but we both agreed it was the best possible first night we could have had.

And now we enter a new kind of wait.  Paperwork has been filed and we are here until we are given permission to make the long drive back.  We are creating a new kind of normal as we adjust to being a family of three, and as eager as we are to stop living out of suitcases we know we will start all over again when we create our new routines at home.  We are tired and confused and constantly questioning ourselves, but we are also in awe and elated and feeling that it's all worthwhile.  

Welcome to the world, little one; there's a lot of love waiting here for you.