We began looking for adoption agencies in February 2003. It took a while to find the right fit, but at the end of August we went to an orientation at an agency we finally liked. In October we started the homestudy process and took our required classes. By November our homestudy was done and in December we were approved to adopt. We took a break for the holidays, and then in January we posted our profile online. One week later, we were contacted by the mother of a beautiful 14-year-old girl who was seven months along with a boy.

An Early Arrival!

We corresponded with the birthfamily for a couple of weeks to get to know one another better. Our spiritual walks and values, the places we had ministered, and our views on adoption were so similar, we just sensed God in the midst of our plans. Eventually, we decided to fly to New York to meet them. Two days before we were to arrive, the birthfamily told us that the doctor was planning to induce because the baby was getting too large for her petite mother. She would be giving birth Thursday--which meant that when we arrived Friday, we might be meeting our future son! We got the call Thursday night from proud grandma: "Guess what? She's a girl! Did you want a girl?"

Are you kidding? We couldn't believe they were so concerned about what we would want after having just experienced a long labor and delivery process. Though we were, truthfully, never concerned about gender, we found ourselves overjoyed at the new prospect of bringing home a little girl.

Meeting the Birthfamily

Not only did we meet our future daughter, we fell in love with her birthfamily. The birthmom was constantly offering to let us hold the baby, and she and the birthfather assured us they knew this was the right thing for their daughter. We got to go to church with the birthfamily and the baby, and help lead the worship music. The pastor unexpectedly introduced us as the adoptive parents, and the congregants asked if we were excited. Not quite yet. The process still had a ways to go: the young birthmom was in counseling, and paperwork still needed to be processed. Out of necessity, the birthfamily placed the baby in a transitional home for a few weeks w/a Christian family.

The wait was a killer, but in the end the paperwork was completed, and we flew out for a presentation/dedication ceremony they'd carefully planned. Our pastor flew out to lead it with theirs. Our hearts were troubled for the birthfamily but the birthmom was serene as we gathered in the chapel for the ceremony. Her sister gave Ari to me to hold as we waited for it to begin. When I tried to place her in her birthmother's arms she said, sweetly, "You hold her." We sat down together and she went through everything they'd packed in a diaper bag for Ari. Then I placed Ari in her arms as the ceremony was about to begin. She shed a tear when it was time for her and the birthfather to place Araceli in our arms, and I felt one sliding down my face at that exact moment. She was sad, but clearly determined, and I hurt for her. But at the same time I was allowing my heart to feel joy for the first time since we'd all chosen each other. Araceli was like oxygen for me, I could breathe again. We had a daughter.

Finally.

One of things I'll always take with me is the peaceful, respectful way we all treated each other. In that chapel, decorated solely with a wooden cross draped with a simple cloth, journeys ended and new ones began as Christ embraced us all. He gave us the peace we all needed to move forward.

During the ceremony the birthfather stood before everyone and spoke into the video camera, to Ari, and told her he loved her, and that he was glad they'd chosen "the perfect parents" for her. At some point he'd come up to me as I was feeding Ari, and quietly informed me that some milk was slipping from mouth and sliding behind her ear. He was doting, saying good-bye in his own way, nervous and sweet.

I'll never forget the peaceful smile on the birthmom's face as we parted. I was standing at the bottom of icy stairs that I'd just perilously navigated with my weightless, bundled daughter in my arms, carefully rushing out to say, "good-bye." She was leaning into the warmth of her family's car, and her face said, "Don't worry." She was always just as concerned about my feelings as I was about hers. We planned to see each other again in the summer and that gave me a great deal of peace.

Then we were driving through the snow drifts in a rental car--with our daughter! Bless her heart, her grandma called to say her birthmom was doing fine, and to thank us for how loving we had been during this tough time. Thank *us*? There are just no words to express how thankful we are to have met this family, that is now part of our family, and has given us the gift of parenthood.