Part VI~Macklin James Christopher

Naming our precious bundle was easy… But I want to start by telling you a story about Melissa, who works for Bundle of Hope. Melissa spent many hours on Saturday encouraging me to pray for a miracle. She’s the one that taught me that God likes to show off… She kept saying “Give him a chance, God loves to show off.” How quickly her words would become the truth!

Macklin was born at home to a woman named Dawn. Dawn didn't know she was pregnant. She thought she was feeling bad on April 9th due to spending to many hours in the sun. Macklin was born at home at 7:50 in the evening. One of Dawn’s daughters brought her the phone, and she called her mom, who then called the ambulance. The ambulance arrived quickly and rushed them both to the hospital.

The ambulance drivers were named James and Christopher, so Dawn named him James Christopher. The crazy thing about that was instantly obvious. I am named after my Dad, James, and Chris's full name is Christopher! Melissa’s explanation for this tiny miracle is that God likes to make his work known… and just in case ANYONE doubted that this adoption was His doing, he put his stamp on it. He helped Dawn name him the most obviously perfect name in the whole world, long before she knew that Chris and I existed.

Dawn spent 48 hours with him in the hospital. Her mom was instrumental in her decision to give him up for adoption. Dawn currently lives with her mom and youngest daughter Jessica. Her older daughter spends most of her time at her dad’s house in another state. Dawn’s mom was adamant that they could not have any more children at the house. I believe it was her mom that called Glenda at Bundle of Hope. This phone call happened ½ an hour before I called Glenda to tell her that Dee had changed her mind.

After Dawn decided on adoption, she said that she wanted a Florida couple. Our story touched her and she said she knew right away that we were the right choice. She selected us without meeting us or even seeing a picture. I believe that was another act of God. With Dee, I knew that nothing I could do, or not do, would change the outcome of her decision. Just as, with Dawn, God put it on her heart that we were the right choice. Chris and I didn’t need to DO anything. It was all a part of the plan.

Part V~ Our Baby

My heart melted from the very first moment I set eyes on our little boy. It was almost impossible to believe that all the legal work was said and done. The very first second we saw him, he was already ours. The strangest part is that it felt so RIGHT.

Chris and I rushed to the now familiar nursery and washed up as quickly as we could. The nurse led us around a corner, and there he was… sleeping in a little bassinet looking so alone I could hardly stand it. His birth mom had already gone home, and he was waiting for us. How could this perfect little angel really be ours. Chris recovered from shock quicker than me, and he reached down and picked him up. The look on Chris’s face was so beautiful. A dad and his son, and Chris looked natural after two days of caring for Dahlia!


Finally it was my turn to hold him. I did a quick inventory… ten fingers, ten toes and the most perfect little face that I have ever seen. Although I had nothing to do with making him, I instantly felt proud to be his mama.
He has the most beautiful shade of hair, and I have always dreamed of having a little boy with red hair. Ask my mom!
45 minutes later, the nurse told us we could go home. My first thought was, “Are you kidding, it can’t be this easy!” But it was, we walked out of the hospital holding a beautiful baby boy.

Part IV~ Lunch

Chris and I drove down to Jacksonville Beach. We figured that was as good a place as any to catch our breath and try to accept what had just happened. We found a cute little Irish Pub on the beach to get some lunch and talk. We didn’t have much to say as we sat there, but we were grateful for each other. Chris and I have been married just a short time, but we have gone through some great losses together and arrived on the other side a stronger couple. I knew we were going to make it through this as well. I spent some time thinking about how hard it was going to be to go home empty handed… All of our friends and family were expecting us to bring home a baby. I thought of how sad I would feel going home to an empty nursery, and putting away all of the beautiful outfits that I bought for her.

We ordered our food and shortly after it arrived, my phone rang. It was Melissa from the agency… She asked us were we were, and I told her. She then said that we needed to get back up to the hospital to pick up our baby boy. I was completely blown away, but having been burned, I couldn't believe what she was saying. I asked her several questions, like "have the papers been signed... is the ink dry?" She said yes. She told us he was a beautiful, perfect baby boy and he was waiting for us to come take him home. Chris knew something huge was happening because I was sobbing in to the phone. I hung up the phone and told him about our baby boy.

We left our meals, and rushed back to the hospital. This time, there was a way different mood in the car. We were elated! God had heard our prayers and granted us our miracle. It just looked different than I thought it might.

Part III~ The Big Day

The next morning, Chris and I got dressed up and headed to the hospital for the signing of the papers. We were so nervous, and excited. I packed the camera and the video camera and the special outfit I purchased for our baby to wear home from the hospital.

We rushed to the hospital to make sure that we would be there by nine o’clock when visiting hours started. The moment we walked in to the room, I knew. It was as if the life had been sucked out of it. Dee was in her bed, talking on the phone. She didn’t end her conversation when we walked in the room, and I could read that her body language was shutting us out. She even placed the baby on the far side of the room away from us. As she talked, I also noticed that her gown was off on one side as if she had been breast feeding.

About 5 minutes later she got of the phone and we started nervous chatter. She barely answered our first few questions, and then started a speech that we knew was going to break our hearts. She said she felt rushed, and couldn’t sleep last night and she felt that was a sign that she should keep the baby. She then explained that she almost went through with it because she felt bad for us, but she just couldn’t. I remember that as she talked, Chris started squeezing my hand. It’s as if the world was moving in slow motion. I could not believe that this was happening. After all the phone calls, and traveling to Florida to sit in her hospital room for 48 hours, after falling in love with her baby, Dee was changing her mind. I felt the sudden urge to get out of the room. It was as if I couldn’t breathe. Chris had to do the talking and then we rushed out.

In the hallway, I lost it. I felt as if my last hope in the entire world of becoming a mom had just been taken away from me. In shock, we went to the parking garage and sat in the car. I cried and Chris just sat there. We were both beside ourselves with sadness. Dahlia was meant to be with us, and I couldn’t deal with any other scenario. After I gained a little composure, we called the agency. I was surprised to hear that they already knew. How could they let us go up to that room with our hearts on our sleeves if they already knew? Melissa advised us to pray. She said we were in a spiritual warfare and that the devil doesn’t want us to be parents. She advised us to pray and call people at home to pray with us. So we did. Chris and I prayed in the car. We asked God for a miracle, we begged him to give us our baby.

With our hopes and dreams dashed, we drove away from the hospital in disbelief. Our carseat was empty, and the pretty pink outfit I bought was still in the bag. Not sure what to do, we just drove.

Part II~ Jacksonville, Florida

We arrived in Jacksonville, Florida by 12:30 the following day. It was such a long flight. I called the agency right when we touched down and they said Dee had given birth to a baby girl at 11:20 a.m. The baby weighed 6lbs 9oz and was perfectly healthy!

I was glad that I had decided to “pretty up” in the airport bathroom during our layover because I wanted to make a good first impression with Rick and Dee (I've changed the name of the birth mom and dad). Dee and I had developed a relationship over the phone and with email. I care deeply for her and it was important that she like us.

We arrived at Shands Hospital around 1:45 and met Glenda and Melissa from our agency for the first time. They were just as I had imagined. We all stopped at the gift shop to find something for Dee. What do you get for the woman who is about to give you her child? We settled on some carnations and a rose… the only flowers in the shop. Feeling really inadequate, we went up to labor and delivery. Chris and I were so nervous.

When we walked in to the room, Dee, Rick, Ricks mom, and his sister were all in the room, but no baby. I gave Dee a hug. It was really nice to finally meet her. She looked just as she did in her photos. While it was intimidating to be sourounded by her whole family, it went better than expected.

A half an hour later, we went to the nursery to peek at our precious bundle of joy. They wheeled her up to the window so we could get a good look. She was so beautiful! Tiny and perfect, she slept soundly in her bassinet. Chris and I truly felt like proud parents. Adoption was such a long journey, but at that moment it felt so worth it. We ogled over the baby for 10 minutes or so, but then felt it was best to go back to the hospital room. Shortly after, Rick went to get the baby from the nursery. He held her for a minute or two and then handed her to me. I instantly fell in love. I will never forget that first minute of utter happiness as I held her in my arms. It was hard to believe that she soon might be ours.


Florida law states that the birth mom must wait 48 hours before signing the termination of parental rights. I knew it was going to feel long, but I had no idea.
When the baby first came in to the room, Glenda asked what we were going to name her. Chris and I discussed this on the plane, and we had decided that we wouldn’t name her until the 48 hours had passed and she was ours. I felt very strongly about this, because the name we selected was very important to us. The name was Dahlia Jo. I had a dream about two weeks before I found out about Dee and Rick’s little girl. I was walking in a grocery store and I turned around to talk to a little girl. In my dream I said, “Come on Dilly Dally,” and the little girl ran to catch up with me. I awoke the next morning with the name Dahlia in my head. My great grandfather raised Dahlia’s and they are an extraordinary flower. I thought that Chris wouldn’t like the name, so I waited a few weeks to bring it up to him. To my surprise, he loved it. So, I did a little more research on the name and ironically, I found that Dahlia means “gentle and loved” in Swahili, an East African Language. This made me love the name even more.

The agency insisted that we name her right away. We felt so vulnerable naming the sweet little baby with her mom in the room. It was awkward. I also found it strange that Dee, Rick, their families, Dahlia, Chris and I were obviously going to have to spend the next 48 hours in the same room. I asked the agency about this and they said that they hadn’t arrived soon enough to split us up.

The rest of the day went pretty well. I found that Rick and Dee’s family were distant at first, but they seemed to warm up to us. I can imagine that it was strange for them to imagine us taking their little relative home to Washington.
It surprised me when Dee asked me to stay the night in the hospital room. I was able to feed and change Dahlia all night. I didn’t sleep a wink.

At 7 o’clock the next morning, I called Chris and he picked me up to take me to the hotel for a break. I took a nap and a shower and we headed back up to the hotel room. Chris and I had both fallen completely in love with the little baby and we didn’t like being away from the hospital. During day two, Dee had many visitors. They were wonderful, and Chris and I enjoyed getting to know each person. One visitor in particular was so vocal about how proud she was of Dee for choosing adoption. She was actually the woman who helped them consider adoption rather than late term abortion (when she was 20 weeks.)

As the second evening rolled around, she mentioned that she would like to spend some time alone with Dahlia. We agreed, because there wasn’t much else we could do. Besides, Chris and I felt great about the fact that tomorrow, this little angel was going to be ours. We went out to dinner to celebrate at this fabulous Thai restaurant called Basil. Chris and I decided that we felt 90% sure that the next day was going to be one of the best of our lives and we would be the proud parents of a baby girl.

It was hard to sleep that night, but we managed. Sara warned me that it was likely to be the last time we would sleep through the night. How right she would be.

Part I~ The Call

On April 8th , I headed over to my parents to finish up a paper I was working on for my job. I felt rushed to finish it as I had no idea what was in store for the next two weeks. Our birth mom’s name was Dee (name changed for her protection) and she had a doctors appointment earlier that day. I knew there was a real possibility that they would keep her at the hospital due to the fact that she was experiencing headaches, backaches, and high blood pressure. The adoption agency let us know around 3:00 that we should be ready for all outcomes. Chris was at work, and I hadn’t been able to share the news with him.
At 7:30 my phone finally rang, it was the agency! Glenda’s voice on the other end said “Time to come to Florida my dear.” I was in total shock, and then shock gave way to total panic. I was so excited!
After trying to call Chris, I researched airfare to Jacksonville online. We found two one way tickets to Jacksonville for $780. After I booked the flights, I got a phone call from Chris. I hurriedly filled him in, and he raced home from work. I left to meet him at home.
We were probably a sight to see racing around our house, packing as fast as we could. We were dodging each other in the hallways, yelling from room to room about the things we should pack. Our daughter was about to be born!
Dad drove us to the Seattle Airport and we arrived just before 10 p.m. Our flight was scheduled to leave at 11:25. Once we arrived at the airport, Chris and I finally took a deep breath. The moment we had waited for was finally here.

48 Hours Can Change Your Life Forever.

Going to get a girl, coming home with a BOY.

Saturday, April 11th was hands down, the most emotional day of our lives. It’s not often that something completely devastating is instantly followed by the most fabulous miracle on earth.

Many people told us that we shouldn’t go to Jacksonville until our birth mom signed papers. At the time, I knew that was logical but I couldn’t stand the idea of missing 48 hours, or more, with our baby. Looking back, if we hadn’t decided to fly right when we got the call, we never would have been there to get the call about Macklin. It overwhelms me every time I think about all the stars that had to align for our paths to cross with his. If I didn’t believe in God before, I would surely be a believer now. I have chills just writing about it.

Part of my heart was broken when our birth mom changed her mind, but Macklin healed me quicker than I ever thought possible. It is really hard to remain sad when you know that THIS was exactly what was meant to be. I think of Dahlia often and I am pretty sure that Darcelle will be a great mom…She recently asked us to be her baby’s God parents. We of course said yes, but I am not sure if that will ever mean much.

What really matters is my son and I don’t plan on ever forgetting what a miracle was bestowed on me the moment he became ours. I love him more than words.

It’s hard for me to believe that I was in the maternity ward when he was brought in on April 9th. For all we know, when we were looking at Dahlia in the nursery, our little son could have been right next to her. How is that even possible?

My next six posts will be a true account of our adoption journey. Stories need to be told.

According to Plan.

I am a self proclaimed control freak. My husband doesn't realize it, but I have planned our lives exactly to my liking... where he works, where we live, how we spend our money, who pays the bills, where we vacation, what we eat... all of it has gone exactly according to my plan. (to see this in print makes me feel horrible!)

You can imagine my distress when I realized that I had NO control over whether or not we were able to have a baby. Sure, I could try my best. I planned to be pregnant with in three months of our wedding, and that much I could do. We were married in late August and I found out I was pregnant on Thanksgiving Day. I was very pleased with how things were working out. Sadly, I wasn't able to carry this baby, or several after her, to term.

Over dinner and a few glasses of wine, I convinced my husband that we should adopt and we needed to do it quickly. The next day, I took control of my situation and quickly became an expert on the fastest, most efficient way to adopt a child. It didn't matter to me if the child was a boy or a girl, Black, White, Asian, Hispanic, or Indian; I just wanted a baby.

One week later, we had our first visit from our Social Worker. I was nervous because I had know idea what a Home Study entailed. It turned out to be pretty harmless. We filled out paperwork, talked about which type of adoption was best for us, he took a quick tour of the house, and that was it. Two more visits from the social worker, massive amounts of paperwork, and two FBI clearances later, we were all set to go. I think our entire home study process took 6 weeks from beginning to end.

It seemed inevitable to me that we would be matched quickly. Our family profile was great and I think it did a good job of showing how much love we had to give a child. One month after we sent our application and family profile to an agency, I called to see how things were going. The office assistant politely informed me that our profile had not been shown yet, but that it should happen soon. I called every month after and to this day, that agency has still not shown our profile to any one. When I chose this agency, they said that most of their African American and Biracial adoptions happen within 3-9 months. It has now been 9 months and we haven't heard a word.

Luckily, I am not the type of girl that just sits back and waits. The countless hours staring at my computer, and calling every agency I came across paid off. As I write this, my baby is sleeping in the other room. Sometimes, I day dream about the moment that our first agency will call and say "We have a match!" I believe it will happen, and who knows...?

The Gift my Son Gave Me.

Two years goes by pretty quickly, unless you are me. Every minute, of every day of the last two years I have spent OBSESSING about having a baby. I knew it wasn't healthy, but I couldn't control it.

In November of 2007, I was finally given my ultimate desire. I was pregnant. 16 wonderful weeks later, I lost my little girl. I had been battling for her life for 1 month, and I lost. My body was fighting her for room in my uterus, as a 11 cm fibroid was starving her for space.

I hate the term miscarriage. It seems to imply that something intangible was lost. For four months, I dreamed of her face, her future, what it would be like to hold her. I saw her on the ultrasound screen, felt the joy of hearing her heart beat with mine. I felt the tiny flutter of a butterfly as she moved in my belly. Lastly, I saw her heartbeat slow on hospital monitors, I saw her give up the fight, and I gave birth to her on January 30th much too soon. She was only 5" tall and weighed just over 5 oz, but she was my daughter.

My best friend found out she was pregnant when I was ten weeks pregnant with my baby. We were so excited about being pregnant together. After my loss, I could barely look at my friend. It was a hard, confusing time.

I spent the next year in a depressed stupor. No one could give me answers as to why this happened. I decided to have a laproscopic myomectomy to remove the fibroid tumor from my uterus. For me, it was just as emotionally necessary as it was medically. The doctor's assured me that within three months, I would be "as good as new," and that my husband and I could try again.

I became obsessed with trying to get pregnant. I bought pregnancy tests and ovulation predictor kits in bulk. I saw doctors, and specialists, and went to acupuncture. As my life fell apart, I knew that the only thing that could put me back together was a baby. I longed to buy maternity clothes, and I despised pregnant women.

Three months went by, and we tried again. My second miscarriage happened when I was 11 1/2 weeks pregnant. My doctor had been concerned from the beginning of my pregnancy that it wasn't viable (another term I hate). I felt reassured at 7 weeks when I saw my baby's heartbeat on the ultrasound screen. Later the doctors told me that the babies heart probably stopped beating within days of when I saw it.

I have had two more miscarraiges since, and I was beginning to think that the whole in my heart would kill me. I read books, went to counseling, cried on my husbands shoulder, but nothing helped. I wish I had a better way to mourn my babies. It makes me angry to hear other women's stories and to realize that so many of us suffer alone. Why aren't there funerals? Why isn't there a special showing of support for babies lost? How are we supposed to move on if there is no proper way to grieve?

My obsession continued. New doctor's, new tests, new diagnoses, same pain. Last October, I threw my obsession in to the adoption process. Every waking moment of my life, I scoured the Internet looking for "our baby." In this case, my insanity paid off. 7 months later, my husband and I were flying to Jacksonville for the birth of the child we hoped would be ours.

Strangely enough, I was still obsessed with getting pregnant. I came home with our son, and got right back on the pregnancy bandwagon. What is this strange desire? An addiction? My inability to let go of a dream?

Today, I am letting go. Maybe I will give birth to a baby some day, maybe I won't. My overwhelming desire to have a child led me to my son. I realized just last night that my beautiful baby boy makes everything ok. I don't need anything else, and I don't want to invest any more time, energy, or tears wondering why my body can't stay pregnant.

People say to us all of the time, "Your baby is so lucky to have you." My answer is cliche, but true... it is me who is lucky. Macklin saved my life. I woke up yesterday, and I realized I no longer cared about being pregnant. My son healed my broken heart.

Have I Always Been This Annoying?

Over the past six months I have been doing some soul searching. It seems important to complete a new personal inventory now that I am in my thirties. There are changes that I have made in my life that I am proud of. For example, I am working on being more honest with myself and others because I want people to really know me.
There are also realizations I have made about myself that I am not so proud of. It was about six months ago that I actually listened to the words that were coming out of my mouth on the phone. I am amazed that no one has called me out on how freaking annoying I am.
It's as if I am in a constant competition with my friends in my head. Let's say that my best friend tells me that she had a great time trying something new. Rather than be excited for her, I think I get jealous. I instantly start talking about what I have done that is similar. Personally, I don't think she was calling to hear about me at all. She just wanted to share her excitement. So why is it that I feel like this? Jealousy is incredibly unattractive and now that I have realized my faults, you think it would be easier to fix them. But just tonight, I hung up the phone thinking... "Oh my gosh, I wish I could do that conversation over and just be happy for my friend."
It's as if I am afraid for someone to be more successful, or a better mom, or thinner or tanner or more fashionable or anything MORE than me.
My goal is to kick the jealousy habit and be happy for people. There is enough room in this world for us all to be fabulous. Time to get over myself and on with my life.

The Broken Road.

It's hard to understand why things happen the way they do. Usually, I look back at the end of a journey and I can see the master plan. My life has had a constant theme... out of hurt and pain, comes beauty.

I had this image in my mind of what it would be like to be a mom. I wanted it so badly. I always assumed that getting pregnant, and staying pregnant would be the easy part. Four miscarriages later, I know that it will never be easy for me.

Now, I can see that each of our losses brought us one step closer to finding our son. Each miscarriage deepened my desire to be a mom. I look at our son, and I see a miracle.

Now I understand why...

The Truth Shall Set You Free.

My first memory is of being eight years old. Perhaps that is why I adopted the motto "If you can't remember it, make it up" at a really young age. Those who knew me when I was younger may have even called me a compulsive liar. I preferred to think of myself as imaginative.

My "imagined" childhood memories consisted of famous relatives, unicorns, and limousines. It was all very glamorous. People actually believed some of my stories... until middle school. I hated middle school. Once people figured me out, I realized that I had to make my stories more believable than riding flying unicorns at sunset. So I began to embellish. One day, towards the end of the school year, a girl that rode my bus tried to pick a fight with me. I was so scared of her that I told my friends that a limousine was coming for me shortly and I wouldn't be riding the bus home that day. I had to wait for hours for my dad to come pick me up in our faux-wood paneled mini-van.

This is important information for you to know as I set the scene for how my overactive imagination has shaped my life. Evidently, being an average, middle income, American girl was never enough for me. I always wanted more... It's only recently that I realized that I need to redefine myself and re-imagine my future so that I don't wake up one day and realize it was all make believe.