One Year

Chances are, whether you have biological or adopted children, you remember every detail of the moment you found out you were going to be a mom. First child or 10th child, it never fails to imprint  your heart and mind forever. You remember the time of day.You remember the bathroom you took the test in. You remember the heart-racing feeling of seeing the agency's number on your caller I.D. and where you were when you got "the call". You remember the first person you told. And you remember the prayer you mumbled as you caught your breath as it had inevitably been knocked out of you for a brief moment.

It was noon.

I was here.

In a pretend bedroom in a pretend house in a Pretend City.

I almost didn't answer the phone because it wasn't exactly a "phone call" friendly location. But I saw the number, and I just knew I needed to get that call. 

We have a 6 day old . . .

He's 5lb 11oz . . .

He's Mexican/Native American . . .

His name is Tristan . . .

Can you pick him up before 3:00? 

Yes! Wait, let me call my husband, but I'm sure it's yes. Well I'm not 100% sure, but I'm pretty much sure. Like 99.7% sure. Can I call you back? I mean, I don't have to call you back if you need to know right now, but I really should ask Mark. I know he'll say yes. Pretty positive he'll say yes. I'll call you right back.

He said yes.

A few hours later and I'm there, and they bring out this tiny, itty bitty baby and all heads turn to see who is the recipient of such treasure. I was the envy of every foster mom in the lobby. I signed some papers and drove home.

 And here we are, one year later, with a strong, vibrant, sugary sweet toddler who melts everyone he meets with his big brown doe eyes and killer smile

. 

His first birthday, July 25th, was a big deal. But today, August 1st, it's his true delivery date.