We went to our adoption agency's annual picnic on Saturday (where I got to hang with some pretty cool folks).
The picnic made me go all inwardly thoughtful, remembering last year. This week is when it all began. The day before last year's picnic I answered the first of a series of phone calls that would lead to us meeting Ms B and, eventually, to Firefly. (The whole Firefly adoption story is under the category Adoption-It's a Process.) I remember chatting with other parents under the tall pine trees and secretly wondering if we'd have a baby with us the next time we gathered.
I've been through a handful of those phone calls (aka "The Call" among adoptive parents) during our two adoptions and they're always the same. Heart pounding, thoughts racing, scribbling bits of information onto the closest piece of paper. Information that later, when the descriptions have turned into real people and the people into relationships, will seem so oddly superficial. Trying to listen to the social worker and the whole time wondering, "Is this how it's going to happen?" And the moment of stillness after hanging up the phone when you realize that, in your little little corner of the world, you alone know what just occurred. It's amazing how instantly everything can change when you're adopting.