Today was an AMAZING day, even considering the fact that the first four hours of it were spent cleaning up a horrible mess made by our dog while the kids turned the couch cushions into their own version of SkyZone. Today, January 10th, 2018, was AMAZING. Today we received a phone call we had been waiting for since September of 2017.
You see, we’ve been in a very long, and honestly frustrating, process to adopt our youngest son, but we’ve been excited because according to the update from our most recent court hearing, it looked like we’d finally be getting an adoption date the end of February. So imagine my surprise when my phone rings this afternoon and it’s our adoption worker, calling from the court house to tell me his adoption wouldn’t be in the end of February, but instead is scheduled for just TWELVE DAYS FROM NOW!!! I was so excited, I don’t think I believed her at first. I told her I needed to call her back, for literally no reason other than to wrap my head around what she was telling me. I called her back seconds later after telling Nate the news, laughing because I couldn’t even communicate what I was feeling.
I immediately called my Dad to let him know, and was during that conversation that all of my emotions finally caught up with what was happening. I paused during the conversation and began to cry, tears of joy and relief pouring down my face. When you become a foster or pre-adoptive parent, it’s almost like there’s this extra layer of emotions one finds themselves digging into. I think a lot of it comes from that fact that as you become more familiar with the system, you begin to try to be prepared for the unexpected, for things to change on a dime, for life to do a “180” in an instant. So even though a case is heading a certain direction or you’re in a certain stage of the process, there seems to be this worry, fear, and doubt that lingers in the back of our minds and hearts. But not anymore.
On January 22nd, 2019, just twelve days from now, we’ll walk into a courtroom as “Foster Mom,” “Foster Dad,” and “Foster Son,” and leave as a family. Our twin boys will share the same last name as their little brother and my husband and I, along with our family and friends, will finally be able to celebrate officially becoming “McMullin, Party of Five.”
A little while after endless phone calls and text messages to share the news, JJ woke up from his nap and I could hear him calling for me. “Mama! Mama! Mama!” I ran upstairs, ran my hip into the God forsaken baby gate (every. dang. day.), scooped him out of the crib and told him the news. His response was pretty typical, consisting of stealing my glasses, a hug, and asking for food, haha. But he smiled, with his big cheek bones and dimples, and chocolate brown eyes, and again said “Mama,” as if he knew exactly what I was saying.
And so the countdown officially begins. Twelve days my sweet baby boy. Twelve days and we’ll finally be able to share your adorable face and powerful story with the world. Twelve days and we’ll be able to cross state lines without authorization from the agency or visit the pediatrician without filling out an incident report and turning in copies of doctors notes and prescriptions. Twelve days and your birth certificate will show Leah McMullin as “Mother,” and Nathaniel McMullin as “Father.” In twelve days you’ll finally, and officially, be who we always knew you would be. Ours.
•Written January 10th, 2019•