Happy _______________ Day!

April 27th is a very special day for me and my family, but unlike birthdays or anniversaries, I don't have a special name for it.  April 27 was the day that my son was legally recognized as ours.

Let me backtrack...although April 27th was the day that my husband and I, along with our son and our attorney (and my dad who came along for the ride) went to the courthouse and had a judge declare that he as legally ours, he had been "ours" even before he was born.

I think anyone who has ever gone through, or tried to go through the adoption process will agree that it can be more invasive than a colorectal examination while being audited by the IRS.  We went through all the hoops, paid all the fees, met with social workers, had physicals...the list goes on and on.  It was daunting to say the least.  And on going...for more than a year.

As a matter of fact, I will confess that in March of 2005 I thought of giving up.  We had  worked with several different organizations and processes and didn't seem to be getting anywhere.  Did I really want to shell out more money for another year?

And it was shortly after, in April that we got a call from the agency we were using that there was a birth mother who was interested in talking to us.  Of course the call came at the most inopportune time...my husband took the call and immediately tried to contact me, but I was in an off site meeting.  I had an office phone, business cell phone and personal cell phone, but I wasn't answering any of them.  I believe the message he left was something along the lines of :  "You have all these F*ing phones and you don't answer any of them!"  Then, once I got the message, called him and found out what was going on, I couldn't get out of my meeting.  All I wanted to do was go home and be with him and talk about this amazing turn of events and I couldn't get there!

From there there, after years of plodding along, the pace picked up.  We had a phone conversation with our birth mother facilitated by a counselor at the agency.  The conversation actually had less to do with the impending birth of our son and more about our likes and dislikes.  It didn't  hurt that we all had a love of the theater (and had all been to see "Spamalot"), classic rock and Stephen King novels.  It was indeed bizarre to be talking to a stranger about all these things and hoping that she would select us.

Approximately a month later (and coincidentally the same weekend that "Spamalot" would win the Tony award), we took a road trip to meet our birth mother.  It was a bizarre and enjoyable weekend where we met the birth mother (and got to see the first photos of our little guy via sonogram print out), her family and the birth father.  While it seems strange, we all got along very well and I think the feeling was that if we had met under different circumstances we'd all be friends.

After that all we had to do was wait...and wait...and wait...

Then, late one warm summer evening, we got the call from the agency.  Things were starting to happen.  We were encouraged to rest up (ha!) and leave in the morning for our destination.  So what did these expectant parents do?  While the expectant father ran to the ATM to get some ready cash, I did laundry (because one can always do laundry!) and made some frantic phone calls in order to get a room for a week.  It wasn't quite as bad as Mary and Joseph in Bethlehem, but being the height of summer vacation time, it wasn't easy. (Especially at that hour of the night.).  One place would take us, but then we had to leave for the weekend.  Several phone calls later and a very kind man said he'd have a room for us for as long as we needed (and to this day I say a prayer of thanks for his kindness).

If you think we slept that night...well, we did.  Sort of.  Actually I recall watching several "Frasier" reruns in the middle of the night and then forcing my husband to get up and on the road.

It was from the road that we told our respective families that their grandchild was on his way.  It was also from the road that we GOT the call that things had moved a lot quicker than anyone had anticipated and that our son was born.

Approximately 8 hours later he was in our arms and we were a family of three.

It would take 8 months more before the legal process was completed.  So while the wheels of the legal system were slowly turning, we were changing diapers, feeding him Similac, playing with him and most importantly loving him.

But it was a sunny April morning that the three of us, along with my dad, drove to the courthouse, met our attorney and after waiting in a hallway for a half an hour or so, we were escorted into a courtroom.  It is the ONLY time I want my son to be in courtroom (unless he gets called for jury duty when he is older).  The process was relatively quick and simple.  I was asked a dozen or so questions by our attorney.  I already knew what they were going to be and how to answer them. (They were not complicated by any means...such as what my full name was and what my occupation was.)  Then the judge said a few words, signed some papers and that was that.  All that waiting and it was finally "over" (at least as far as the legal system was concerned).  After a few photos (How often does a judge ask you if you'd like to take a few photographs?  How often do you get a court officer to take a family photo with the judge?), we were on our way home where we celebrated on and off throughout the day as friends came by whenever they could to congratulate us.

Today, 7 years later I am as happy as  I was then.  My son has enriched my life in ways that I couldn't even imagine when we first started the adoption process.  So Happy ___________ Day to me, to my husband and my son!


  1. Aw great post! I am so grateful that God put Jimmy in your lives and you in his!


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