If there were ever a time to use multiple exclamation points in a title, this is it!!!
We've kept the news to ourselves for a little while, but I'm ready to share my miracle.
Baby Girl Lucas is due on October 13, 2010. And we found out just a couple of weeks ago that she gets to be ours.
We're not even done with our adoption paperwork yet (it's being fasttracked, of course!). We don't even have our "please choose us!" adoption profile completed. And the agency we're using (LDS Social Services) is very highly subsidized by the LDS church, which makes it highly affordable compared to other agencies, which means there are 900(!!!) prospective LDS couples on the waiting list and not nearly that many babies, which means couples wait for 2 years on average to be matched with a birthmom. Our situation is going to skew those statistics just a bit, I think.
Here's the story.
I'd been sitting on that infertility post I wrote for honestly 2 months. I'd been thinking about writing about infertility for even longer than that, but I couldn't muster up the courage. But on the day before I was planning to publish that post anyway, I got a phone call out of the blue from a beautiful, young mother-to-be who wanted to meet us.
I had about three hours notice to get my house ready for the visit, and I'm eternally grateful for that, because had it been any longer, I may have been a basket case by the time she arrived. Who knows what I would have attempted to remodel in time for the visit?
You see, the birthmom is a relative of a relative. She's not biologically related to me, but she is biologically related to three of my nieces and nephews. She's my brother-in-law's niece. And I loved her the moment she showed up on my doorstep. Not just because of the unimaginable gift she has chosen to give us, but because of the courage and character she has shown through an incredibly difficult time in her life.
And to make it even more perfect than it already is, I have no less than SEVEN friends or cousins who are either giving birth or adopting babies within three months of my baby's due date. And even better, six of the seven babies are girls! (Did you hear that? "My baby"??? I've been waiting for six years to say that about someone other than a 105-lb. French Mastiff or a 45-lb. Olde English Bulldogge.)
As the events of the last several months have unfolded, it has become more and more obvious to me that there is a larger plan at work here. Whether you believe in fate (which I don't) or in divine intervention and guidance (which I do), it's abundantly clear that even heart-wrenching, difficult, grief-filled situations can be made good and right. I can't even begin to express all the tender feelings that are in my heart right now. We've been walking on air for weeks. And as every day passes, it becomes more and more real.
Isn't she adorable? (I know the pictures aren't doing the frame justice. It's hard to photograph behind glass.)
About the Frame There is so much more to this story than I'd ever have room for on this blog, but I have to share a few more highlights. The birthmom, Anneliese, created the beautiful frame you see pictured above. She's a scrapbooker. (See? I told you it was perfect!) And my sister is an ultrasound tech, so she was able to get a beautiful profile picture of the baby for Anneliese to give to us. And this, of course, meant that my sister got the privilege of hearing our news about a week before we did.
Anneliese and the birthdad both arrived at our house for their third visit with us, this time to meet and get to know Jeremy. We had planned a game night (Anneliese's idea!), since games can be a great way to get to know people's personalities and temperaments in a short time. We played Catch Phrase first, girls against boys. (And the boys won 2 out of 3 games.) Then they had brought the game Balderdash.
While Travis prepped the game, I stood up to open a window to let more air into the stuffy room. "Oh!" Travis says, "Maybe I should go get our version of this game. This one's wrapped up all cute." Then I hear Travis pause, "Uh, Angie, maybe you should open it."
Inside the box was the gorgeous frame and three darling little outfits. I was stunned into silence. (Sometimes, for people who talk a lot usually, as I do, they showcase their strongest emotions by clamming right up.) My eyes welled up, Travis hugged me, and I think I was able to stammer out, "Are you sure?"
She said they were sure after the first visit, but they wanted to find the right way and the right time to tell us. (And did you catch that the box says, "Balderdash: the hilarious bluffing game." How perfectly poetic is that? See, you love Anneliese already, too, don't you?)
So, in about 5 weeks, I'm going to be a mother. Or perhaps less than that, if Baby Girl Lucas decides to make her appearance a bit early. And although the nursery's not quite ready and we still need to find homes for all the stuff we're moving out of our spare room, I'd be fine with that. After all, Baby Girl Lucas sure has taken her own sweet time to get here!
You see, I have a Google Alert set up on my name, so that if anyone decides to talk about me behind my back, I'll be the 300th to hear about it. Google sends me a daily email containing all web references to "Angie Lucas."
For months now, I've been reading about my exploits as the coach of the Lady Owls volleyball team, thanks to top-notch reporting from The Banner: Jackson County's #1 News Source. It seems that I was really disappointed on October 1. I know this because I was quoted as saying:
“I was really disappointed.... We just didn’t pass very well
tonight and we just couldn’t get our offense going. We were hitting a
lot of our balls off the net, but we could never get them back on their
heels. It seemed like we were always playing defense and it was not a
good night for us.”
And now I appear in a novel! How DO I find the time?
In this case, I am a "delightful young lady," according to my boyfriend Eric's mom. But my boyfriend Eric's little sister, Emma, doesn't like me very much at all. On top of that, she does NOT want me to teach her how to play the piano. Here is an excerpt from The Hippie House by Katherine Holubitsky, wherein I appear for a total of two pages:
It turns out that:
I am "the perfect height." Not too short, and not too tall. (For those of you who've been wondering, the perfect height is apparently 5 ft., 6¾ inches.)
I have SO many gorgeous sweaters. (This one happens to be true!)
I am not only "very pretty with blond, waist-length hair, hazel eyes and a wide smile" but also "ravishingly beautiful."
I am good at gymnastics. (Well, I hate to brag, but I CAN still do a cartwheel. And the splits.)
I am good at complimenting Eric's mom on her cooking.
I play the piano beautifully, which makes Emma insanely jealous.
When I blush, it is a "soft, sunrise pink."
So, how about you? What color do you blush? And when's the last time you googled yourself?*
* Isn't it fun to see a sentence in print that would have made absolutely no sense 10 years ago?
p.s. While fact-checking that last sentence (only the best for my Yeah, Write readers!) to make sure that "google" really wasn't part of the lexicon 10 years ago, I found out my favorite new fact. Google's declared code of conduct is, and I quote, "Don't be evil." They even included this in the company prospectus. I love it! (Source: Wikipedia)
As many of you know, I recently completed my last day of full-time employment, which has opened up time and energy in my life to finally start a personal blog. I knowingly went down with the Simple Scrapbooks ship, which was a sad and harrowing experience. I was offered a space on a life boat, but I didn't like the direction it was rowing, so I took my leave instead. But now that it's over, I feel like I've washed up on a glorious island paradise. Freedom! Opportunity! Time to read! No need for make-up! Cabana boys! (One can dream.)
For the past 11 years, I've spent 40 hours a week in one office building or another. (And boy do I have some weird stories!) That's 22,880 hours of my life sitting in a gray-walled cubicle or office, waging secret wars with various sets of colleagues for control of the thermostat.
I've spent eleven years commuting to and fro, heating up frozen meals for lunch (foam chicken anyone?), managing people and deadlines, completing T&E forms, adding cover sheets to TPS reports, forgetting to buy groceries for two weeks at a time, being too tired to make dinner, and postponing all household chores so they consumed my brief and fleeting weekends.
Now, after a full week away from the office, my question is: how did I ever fit a full-time job into my schedule? I've been swamped! I'm considering lots of opportunities at the moment, working on freelance projects, and exploring my domestic side. I feel very lucky that the old ball-and-chain is a productive member of society who holds down a full-time job, brings in some freelance design work, and even does laundry on the side. Thus, he can keep on bringing home the bacon, and I'll actually have time to cook it. But I fear that laundry duty will be falling back in my lap, now that I'm around to babysit the washer and dryer. Ah well, it's a small price to pay.
Tune in later to see just exactly how my first day of being unemployed went.