I can’t believe I’m typing this. I can’t believe that I’m typing to a real person, that I’m looking at a picture of you and in a handful of days, we will meet you.
We’d only been licensed for seven weeks and the average wait time is seven months so when we got an email on Wednesday, April 23rd that your caseworker had chosen us as one of the top families, we were surprised. Minutes after the interview meeting for the top 3 families on Friday, April 25, (a meeting that our caseworker attends to represent us), we got the email that we had been chosen as the top family.
We were floored. Shocked. Speechless.
After doing a few other things, we had our final official meeting with CPS this morning. We got to talk to the adults who are currently involved in your life. Every thing that they told us about you made us feel more and more like we were your parents.
We’ve sent the official email with a resounding, “YES!”
We have a son. You are my son.
You’re probably a little scared. Why wouldn’t you be? If life has taught you anything in your nine years, it’s that things can get pretty unpredictable. Let me let you in on a little secret. I’m a little scared too. Change is scary for everyone. I can promise you, though, that we are here for you, every scary step of the way. We can do this together.
There are so many things that I am excited about. I’m excited that you love to dance. I’m excited to go to your first Meet the Teacher night. I’m excited about discovering new interest and talents that lie undiscovered in your spirit. But, honestly, the thing that I am most excited about is getting the opportunity to tell you the following:
– You are so loved.
– You can make a difference in the world.
– You are valuable.
– You have people on your team.
– I will always always always be your mom.
I promise to try and sing those messages to you over and over every day, month after month, year after year. I hope that all my words and all my actions portray those things to you. My hope is that someday they will stick, that they will lodge so deeply in your heart that you know them to be true.
For almost two years of our crazy adoption journey, we’ve been thinking about the day when we get to put a face to the tug in our hearts, when we get to hold our child in our arms.
That day is fast approaching.
Hold on, son.
The wait is almost over.
We are so ridiculously and desperately happy for yall. Serious congratulations. We can’t wait to meet your new son! Nothing but the best; you are going to make some really terrific parents.
Thanks, guys! We’re so excited.