Here's the story about how Jacob came into our lives almost one year ago...
After many years of increasingly invasive infertility treatments, I was actually relieved to come to the decision to adopt. We decided not to adopt an infant through the state because I couldn't bear the uncertainty of not knowing, possibly for years, if we would be his/her forever parents. We researched a few private agencies and learned that we could potentially wait years to adopt a Caucasian baby because of our older ages and because we're a same-sex couple. I had waited for four years to have a baby. I was done waiting and wanted to move on with our lives. While researching how we could adopt on a faster timeline, we learned that it can be hard to find homes for African-American infants that are placed for adoption, so the waiting time for a match can be much shorter . The African-American Infant Program at a local agency seemed like a good match for us. We decided to ask to be matched with a baby girl since we've already experienced raising Nancy's 19 year-old son and now wanted the experience of raising a girl. It took a few months for us to fill out the paperwork (it's not as bad as everyone says it is) and complete our homestudy. By November 2004 we were in the waiting pool of potential adoptive parents and our profile was being seen by potential birthmothers. So then we waited, and waited. I'm the kind of person who, if there's something I can do to help the process go faster, I'm going to do it. But there was nothing to do in this situation but try to be patient and wait. We attended our agency's educational and social African-American Infant Program Pizza Nights while we waited and met a fabulous group of people who were also waiting or already had their babies. These nights were essential for us to keep our sanity because we saw other families eventually get matched with their babies and know that it would happen for us.
In late-February 2005, I traveled to New Mexico on business. While I was there, I fell down some stairs and severely sprained my ankle. I called Nancy to tell her what happened while I was in the ER. She joked that we'd get a baby now for sure and we had a good laugh over it. I ended up in a cast and on crutches, and on some excellent pain killers that pretty much knocked me out. I spent the next day in my hotel room rather than going to meetings. At about 11:30AM, I got a call from Nancy: "I got a call from the agency and there's a baby boy in Delaware who's two-days old. If we want him, he's ours!"
Oh. My. God. I was in a painkiller-induced haze and now I was supposed to make one of the most important decisions of my life?? There wasn't even a pen and paper in the hotel room so I had to hobble to the reception desk to ask for them so I could write down his APGAR scores and other info. We had asked to be matched with a girl, and this was a boy. We had expected a semi-open adoption where we would at least meet the birthmother, but the birthmother wanted a closed adoption. Should we accept the match? Would we regret later that we had a boy and not a girl? Was the universe trying to tell us to not accept this match because I was in a cast and crutches or was it trying to create the most insane situation possible so it would be too absurd to not say yes? In the end, our decision was based on the fact that he seemed healthy, and we wanted a healthy child above all else. In addition, I decided that my being in a cast and crutches didn't justify saying no because parents end up in casts and crutches all the time and still have to be parents. So, we took a big breath, and said yes!
Now we had to get to Delaware ASAP. I flew home to Seattle that night, and we spent the next day packing, arranging airline tickets, hotels, rental cars, who would take care of our cats, buying cell phones, and what to do about all the projects that we were in the middle of at work. Luckily, we had already bought a few baby clothes, diapers and formula. We took the redeye that night to Dulles Airport near Washington, DC because we are familiar with the airport and it was a direct flight both ways. As we were landing, the pilot said "it's snowing and they expect to get about a foot before it's over." Nancy and I looked at each other with alarm. "Did you check the weather?" "Um, no. Did you check the weather?" We'd been having beautiful weather in Seattle and hadn't anticipated a huge snowstorm. I had a light Goretex jacket and some sweaters. Nancy had a slightly warmer jacket, but neither of us even had gloves or a hat. The baby clothes we had definitely were not meant for cold weather. After sweeping the snow off the rental car with a plastic bag, we were on our way to Delaware through a blinding blizard. Several hours later, we arrived at the agency. They put Jacob into our arms. He was and is beautiful, and it was all worth it.
Oh, and we found a hat and gloves under a table in our hotel room! Plus, it turned out that our hotel was right next to a shopping mall with a grocery store, a drug store, and a national chain baby store, so we could buy warmer clothes for Jacob even in the middle of a major snowstorm. We spent the next two weeks on a baby honeymoon, waiting for the interstate compact to come through so we could take Jacob home. Everyone was incredibly nice and helpful during our stay in Delaware.
On the flight home, we showed up at the airport check-in counter and one of the staff eyed us suspiciously. Here we were, two white women with a black baby, and I recalled reading in the newspaper that airline staff had been warned to look out for terrorists who don't fit the mold of "traditional" terrorists: women with babies. Plus, I was in a walking cast and needed a wheelchair to get out to the gate. Interestingly, a woman soon came with the wheelchair, but she was then called away, and 10 minutes later a man came along with a wheelchair. In retrospect, I realize now that he was some plainclothed agent who would be escorting us through security and to the plane. The suspicious gate agent also shadowed us to the gate and furiously worked at his computer and on the phone for the next two hours before our plane took off. We boarded without problems and our flight took off just fine. In midair, we got to talking with the flight attendants, some of whom wanted to hold Jacob. At one point, I overheard one say to another "which people were they worried about?" and the other slyly pointed in our direction. The first attendant said "oh, no way!" and the other agreed that there was nothing to worry about. I think that there were extra security agents on the plane, since a man close to the end of the flight came back from first class, looked at us, and said "hello" and smiled at us, then returned to first class. Very odd, but we got home in one piece!
Jacob is now 11 months old and is a wonderful, sweet, gorgeous baby-soon-to-be-toddler. Sometimes I have to pinch myself to make sure that I'm not dreaming that he's really ours.
