Where are the BOTTLES?

 Josiah was a c-section. I knew exactly when he was getting here. I scheduled his birth. There was no waiting, walking to induce labor, or even labor pains. I high recommend a scheduled c-section to anyone. 

Seriously. Go back and read about it. It's like a vacation.

Eli has already been born, we just have to pick him up. It's simple. Just get to Florida and wait for the call. What I hadn't planned on is the pent up trauma in my body from the disrupted adoption that just happened. 

Yes I've been going to therapy. Yes I've been talking it over with close friends. Yes I've been processing it. But it still surprised me how much of it is still there, lingering under the surface as I go about my everyday life. 

I knew we were coming down here two weeks ago. I made all the travel plans and found the support we needed to make that travel happen. God put into place wonderful people to take care of the dog, pay for the hotel, get the rental car, etc. We only had enough money to come down to Florida once for an adoption. So if it weren't for these folks, I'm not sure how we would have gotten here. That was the easy part. 

After that was taken care of, we were watching TV one night when Aaron said something....

"Where are we going to put him when we get him home? Have you made plans to set up the pack n play and all that stuff?"

Simple question. My response?

"Of course we have all that stuff. We don't need anything. We were just getting ready to bring a baby in the house a few months ago. We'll figure it out."

Now, back to the TV.

It was 4am four days later that it hit me. The house wasn't clean. We still had girl stuff packed into the nursery where we had left it all for weeks. The baby swing was in pieces on the floor in the nursery. The pack n play, was, packed - not ready for play. Where were all the bottles? All the pacifiers are pink. Did we even get formula?

This was the Monday morning before we left.

I went into hyper mode getting things ready and when I said to Aaron how I hadn't thought about this even once, his response was:

"I asked you last week."

My brain clearly hadn't registered it. He had asked me last week. 

On Tuesday I woke up at 3:38am.

On Wednesday I woke up at 3:26am.

On Thursday I woke up at 3:18am. 

On Friday I woke up at 3:06am.

On Saturday I woke up at 2:58am.

These weren't situations where I woke up and went back to sleep. I. WOKE. UP. As in, my brain was done with the sleep let's get coffee and get to work while everyone else is asleep. Of course, I couldn't get to work at that hour because I love the people I live with. So I over indulged in coffee and made copious lists. Packing lists. House cleaning lists. To do lists. Work lists. Thank you mother for teaching me about lists.

Saturday afternoon I watched Josiah playing as I prepared to go have dinner with friends. After dinner we were leaving Josiah there, until we returned. That's when the true issue finally come to the forefront of my brain. 

It wasn't the preparedness that freaked me out. The panic of preparation was really me trying to take control of fear. I didn't want to acknowledge that we had already done this once. I didn't want to acknowledge that we had been to Florida to pick up a child already. That we came home empty handed and broken. If I acknowledge that, then I knew that the next thought would be what if....

What if it happens again? 

So I called Malinda. She promptly sent me a photo of herself as a child. Picture it - Florida - 1980 something. Chunky blonde girl in a swimsuit with leg warmers and Mrs. Roper beads strung around her neck. Ready to rock it out to "Let's Get Physical" by Olivia Newton John and do some heavy repeats of Jane Fonda workouts. 

This photo was followed by another one. A school photo of an elementary blonde girl who is missing almost all of her front teeth. Homegirl got tooth fairy rich that year. 

Malinda is ALWAYS good for a laugh. I love this woman. Not only does she make me laugh, but she is blunt, straight to the point, no fluff. 

She listed out all the things that made this situation different. 

Paperwork for private adoption has been signed, meaning he is ours. No one else can take him from us. No one can step in. 

Termination of parental rights has been filed. A painful step taken by the state. The birth mother had called me when this happened. We talked about how much it hurt over the phone. The words used on legal documents. The airing of past mistakes. Followed by the understanding that we did not cross paths by mistake. This is God's design. This is a step forward to a new life. A new life for her with possibilities. And a new life for our son. And a new life for us. And a new life for Josiah. 

Tuesday's court date is a formality. 

We are in the home stretch.

Thank you Malinda.

When we dropped Josiah off at our friends house and had dinner, I was near panic attack mode. Not because we were leaving Josiah. He's happy as a clam there. I was just flooded with the realization of all of this. In my head I was still stuck on the last trip to make our family complete and how much that hurt when it fell apart. And at the same time, I was overcome with the fact that God has given us a woman to disciple, and I'm not sure I've ever done that before. It was also, the last moment that it was a party of three. 

It was just a lot. 

When we got on the plane to Atlanta, I fell asleep. I also slept on the plane to Tampa. After lunch, I fell asleep in the hotel room. Aaron woke me up a little after 5pm for dinner. Then I fell asleep in the middle of one of our favorite shows after 9pm. 

I wore myself out, ya'll. It was the same kind of sleep that I had after Aaron's heart attack. That post adrenaline drop kind of sleep.

Tonight we'll take our birth mom out for frozen yogurt.

And talk about the future. 

Because the best part of God's love, is the forgiveness of all things wrong in the past, and the excitement of the new life that lies ahead.