Three years ago today, I got the second call that changed my life.
The first one was giddily anticipated… the call about the Little One who would grow into my big girl. The one that proved the naysayers wrong.
This one was different.
I had just had my annual foster care reconsideration visit a few days earlier.
I had jumped through the hoops to stay licensed for another year even though I really, really wanted to be done.
I told my social worker that I didn’t know what kind of placement I wanted. But that parenting my big girl had made me brave, and she could call me about anything. And that I would probably say no.
It was Friday afternoon and I was just leaving work.
And there was a baby.
A tiny one ready to be released from the hospital on Monday.
I had no plans for childcare (not to mention that the baby was too young to be in daycare even if I did). I had no baby stuff. I had never even held a person this tiny before, much less walked into a hospital and taken one home.
It was crazy.
And I knew by the pounding in my chest that the answer was yes.
And so I took a few months off from work (yep, with a weekend’s notice!). I filled my sister’s minivan with stuff I thought I might need. And I walked into the hospital with my mama pretending that I knew what the heck I was doing.
As she told me all about specially mixed formula and follow up appointments, the nurse said she could tell I had done this before.
I told her that I was a good faker.
And I strapped this tiny Little One into a borrowed car seat and drove him right on home.
It’s true, he had me at one look into those deep brown eyes.
He was an infant, after all. How can you not bond with an infant?
But I didn’t know what the future would hold.
It would be years before that Little One would share my last name.
Years of uncertainty and stress and jumping through one thousand more hoops.
Years of navigating a relationship with a birth family that loves him too.
Years of monthly visits by social workers and CASAs (some great, some meh).
This Little One immersed in potty humor and obsessed with basketball was worth it all.
To know him, even for a short time, would have been enough.
To hold him still, to ruffle his perfectly messy curls makes my heart explode.
Friends, sometimes the answer is no.
But sometimes the answer is yes. Even when it seems crazy.
Sometimes the call that changes your life comes when you’re least expecting it.