The Adoption Journey

You never know when you'll receive "the call."

We had just arrived at the University of Washington to attend commencement ceremonies at Husky Stadium when my husband's cell phone rang. “I’m calling about a baby boy," said our adoption specialist. "He was born yesterday. His birth parents chose you.”

Shazam! We had a new child!

The next morning, we met our son at the hospital. Two-day-old Ernie was born in a van outside of the emergency entrance at 1:30 a.m. His birth parents, financially unable to care for him, had released him to our care.

We were shown to a spacious suite and invited to stay overnight. One by one, hospital staff members familiar with Ernie’s birth came by to introduce themselves. “I’m not working today,” a physician said. “I just wanted to meet you.” Each visitor spoke about his or her personal belief and rejoiced with us in God’s faithfulness. A nurse at the end of her shift knocked softly. “Could I pray with you before I leave?” She placed her hands in ours and uttered sweet words of thanksgiving.

There we were in a public hospital savoring the fellowship of believers. How could they know about our faith? It seemed that God was sending His servants to affirm His call upon our lives.

We also knew that God’s plan for our son included Ernie’s birth mother and birth father.

During our hospital stay, our adoption specialist said that Ernie’s birth parents would like periodic visits, which we weren’t prepared to consider. After all, Ernie had several siblings in foster care, and his birth parents had high hopes of regaining custody of them. What if they wanted him back? we wondered.

Then God worked on my heart. I remembered an adopted friend telling me how he felt doubly loved–by his birth parents for wanting the best for him and by his adoptive parents for choosing him. I realized that our child would bond uniquely with us, and together we would forge special traditions and memories. Knowing his birth parents could only enhance Ernie’s life, theirs, and ours—as together we share the joy of seeing him grow.

In the end, we signed an adoption plan that included visits.

A few days later, paperwork arrived from our adoption agency with notes from an interview with Ernie’s birth parents. The last line read: “Treat him well.”

We met Ernie’s birth parents when he was three months old. Although they were a bit nervous, they were delighted to see Ernie. Months later, I sent her a Mother’s Day card and received a lovely card in return. We've also received pictures of Ernie’s birth family that we're arranging in an album for him.

The laughter in our house is louder and heartier since Ernie joined our family. He and his older sister, Faith, adore each other, and Wilson and I marvel daily at how blessed we are by this sweet family.

While falling asleep at night, I think of Ernie’s birth parents’ words: “Treat him well.” Yes, we will, I whisper. Thank you for your trust.