Last September, after a Saturday morning of shopping with my mother, we stopped for a frozen yogurt. Around 12:15 P.M. I got a call from Kelly Jacobson, a contact at our agency. I presumed it was something volunteer related, as I had been helping out at the agency, so I calmly answered the phone.
“Hi, Stephanie, are you in town?” Kelly asked.
“Yes…?” I replied.
“OK, don’t freak out–we might have a baby for you and your husband today.”
I started freaking out. She told me about the baby: already three months old, blond hair, blue eyes. The plan to meet him still had to be settled. All I could say through the call was, “OK…OK.” My mother finally whispered, “What’s going on?” I cradled my arms and rocked them. When I got off the phone, she asked, “Who’s having a baby?”
I stood up, shaking like a leaf, and said, “Me–we might get a baby today.”
My husband, Brian, was golfing. I got his voicemail, then texted him to call me ASAP. He called two minutes later and I explained what was going on. He deals with chaotic situations every day at work, so he seemed fine with everything. He said that, since we weren’t sure what the plan was yet, he’d continue golfing until we knew. (I later learned that he just walked aimlessly around the golf course, freaking out like me.)
We didn’t have long to wait. Ten minutes later Kelly called back. At first, the birth mother hadn’t wanted to meet us but, Kelly said, “Change of plans. Misty, the birth mom, does want to meet you–in one hour at Braum’s restaurant, near Gilcrease Hills Museum.”
As Mom and I rushed to the parking lot, she asked, “What do you want me to do?” I told her not to do anything, and not to call anyone, and that I would call her. I didn’t want to jinx anything. So, she went home and sat at the dining room table, purse in hand, in a daze.
I swung by home to get the car seat, then met Brian at a QuikTrip to install it. We took deep breaths, hugged, and drove separately to Braum’s. We walked in together, and didn’t see anyone with a baby. Five minutes later Kelly arrived, and we waited nervously. Finally she called Ana, the assistant for the birth mom, and was told we were supposed to meet at the McDonald’s, next to Braum’s, near Gilcrease Hills Museum. Seems Kelly had been nervous, too. We walked across the parking lot to McDonald’s.
We walked in and saw a blond, blue-eyed cutie in a woman’s arms. I walked up to Misty and she handed the baby to me. I asked her if she was sure, and we both cried and embraced one another. What a joyous and sad moment! Here I was, bursting with happiness to be meeting my son, while she was handing me her child, feeling heartbroken, but strong. Misty told us that she, her sister, her mother, and her grandmother had looked through the three profile books she was given, and they all chose our family.
As my husband and I took turns crying and holding our baby, Ana and Kelly shot pictures of that moment that we will remember forever: At a McDonald’s, in the afternoon, but instead of getting a happy meal we were getting a bundle of joy. The phrase “I’m lovin’ it” has taken on a new meaning.
