The Night You Were Born.

Dear Samantha,

You were born today: Thursday, May 21. At 12:02AM, you made your entrance into the world. It's amazing how you have already completely changed my life. You made me a mom. You made your father a dad. And today you gave your grandparents their title and I don't think they could be any prouder.

I realize that someday, I'm going to forget a lot of the little details of what went on today, so I'm going to try my best to write down as much as I can. Full disclosure: I've had all of two hours of sleep in the past 48 hours and my brain might not be all there right now. And did I mention that I'm on cloud 9? Yeah--my feet haven't touched the floor since I laid eyes on you.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. After writing the last post, your father, Nonni and I beelined for the hospital, where we were told that the security guard would let us into a separate delivery room to wait for your arrival. That didn't happen. There was a little bit of a mixup, and the three of us ended up waiting for forty minutes in the hospital lobby.

It was the longest forty minutes of my life.

Finally, the security guard got the phone call that it was ok for us to go back into the labor and delivery area. We were quickly met by a nurse, who made an off the cuff comment about YOU being HERE.

My thought process went something like this: Um. Stop the train. YOU'RE HERE?!?! As in--there's a baby waiting for me to be their mommy?

The world kind of slowed down at that point. We walked into the room, and there you were, in a hospital bassinet and surrounded by nurses. I didn't waste any time:

"Is it a boy or a girl?"

"Girl. What's her name?"

I swear, kiddo, my brain stopped at that moment. I shrieked and put my hands to my mouth and started bawling. "Emily Joy," I whispered.

And I knew as I said it that you weren't an Emily.

The next few moments flew by, as the three of us took turns holding you while the nurses looked excitedly on the scene that was unfolding before them.

Soon, we had a visitor: your birthmom's sister (your birth-aunt). I gotta say it; I love your birth aunt. She was one of the most kind and down to earth people I've ever met. She was excited to meet us and was so happy to see just how happy you were making us. She let us know that your birthmom wanted us to write down our names so she could make a decision.

We jotted down six names; three for each gender (your birthmom wasn't sure if she was ready to hear that you were a boy or a girl yet). A few minutes later, your birth aunt returned to the room with "Samantha Grace" circled and a note from your birthmom saying that whatever we picked was okay.

I looked at your father, and without saying a word we knew what your name was. It's Samantha Joy, and as I looked at you today I couldn't think of any other name to call you. It's almost as if you, your birthmom and your daddy and I pow-wowed together and named you.

And Samantha, you are the most beautiful baby I've ever seen.

I spent the night with you, waiting in a conference/storage room. You were anxious to eat; and amazed everyone by how quickly you downed 2 ounces of milk. Apparently you were hungry!

I held you for six straight hours, putting you down only when I had to because the nurses needed to do a check up. We spent the entire time just looking at each other, memorizing each other's faces.

I did manage to find the strength to read "Tell Me Again About the Night I Was Born," but admittedly some of the words were mere squeaks because I was crying tears of joy as I read the pages (in fact, as I type this several hours later I'm tearing up all over again). I sang happy birthday to you (again, more tears of joy).

And I told you I loved you, little one. I now know what it means when mothers say that to have a child is to know the experience of having your heart outside of your body.

In the morning, your father joined me in the makeshift "adoption" room and we watched you get your first check up from your birthmom's doctor: Dr. Gorman. He told us a little more of your delivery (how you weren't coming at all, but then *wham* labor hit hard and you didn't waste any time getting here--the wham was later explained by your birthmom's social worker; she didn't start really laboring until the two women prayed together). He also said that you were remarkably healthy and that your Apgar score was a 9/9. That's as high as it gets, little one; you're an over achiever already!

After your father got to feed you, I reluctantly turned you over to the amazing nurses and went back to the hotel to get some much-needed sleep. Two hours later, I awoke to find your Nonni proudly showing me what she had bought you that morning.

By this point, your Poppa joined us and we all went down to the hospital to see you again. Your Poppa was so anxious to meet you that I don't think I could have wheeled you out fast enough!

The afternoon was just the three of us. The Vogts. Sarah, Jay and Sammie. I like the sound of that. It works. We spent the time just holding you, feeding you and watching you be you.

Later in the afternoon, guests came in droves. The first to arrive was your Aunt Erin & Uncle Grant. They ooh-ed and aah-ed and remarked at how cute you are (by the way, for a newborn, you are a drop dead gorgeous baby...no old man face here!). Soon, Grandma Max & Aunt Beth came (along with most of the contents of Babies R Us). It wasn't long before the cozy make shift room became an all out papparazi infestation. Cameras were going off all over the place!

And you were remarkably patient about it. Really, you only fussed when your swaddling came undone.

Somewhere in there, your birthmom's social worker came in and took me out to the hallway to talk a little more about some of the details surrounding your adoption. Your birthmom knew in her heart, Samantha, that you were always meant to be ours. She knew from the moment she laid eyes on our profile that we were to be the parents of the child she was carrying. She loved that we had pictures of the nursery along with candid shots of our day to day lives.

The social worker, Dianna, reminded me that the birthmom was very artistic (always sewing or putting together crafts or an art project) and loved that I've got a bit of a creative streak in me. She liked that I decorate cakes and make scrapbooks in my spare time, and loved that I am a drama teacher.

Diana told me a few more details, but honestly, I'm having a hard time remembering all of them. We spent some time going over the adoption plan; for now, we're to send updates and pictures every other month. In time, we hope to expand that to visits, but we'll take things as they go.

The *big* news had already been delivered, though: your birthmom officially named us as your parents shortly after being discharged. This means, Sammie, that you are officially Samantha Joy Vogt. You are our daughter.

And I love you more than you'll ever know. We've got a lifetime to get to know each other, and I, for one, am looking forward to every single moment. For now, this busy evening is coming to an end and the hotel bed is really calling me. Tomorrow, we get to pick you up from the hospital and, after we stop by the adoption agency to sign our end of the paper work, we take you home.

Home, Samantha. Your home. You're almost home!

All my love,

your mommy

WHAT?!?!

Dear Child of Mine,

I woke up at 11:15 this evening with your father standing over me. He gives me this big smile and starts to gesture saying that he got a phone call. It went something like this.

Me: *lifts head up from bed, eyes bloodshot and tired*

Daddy: Baby's almost here.

Me: WHAT!?!?!

Daddy: She's at 8 centimeters.

Me: It's almost HERE?!?!

Daddy: Yep.

Me: The baby's COMING?!?!

I don't know what happened after that. The last few minutes have been a blur.

And now, my darling, I'm off to finally meet you. You're almost here!

All my love,
your mommy

Not Yet

Dearest Little One,

So apparently the birthday wishes this morning were a little premature. We heard from our social worker this evening and your birth mom's labor hasn't progressed a whole lot so they're saying you'll make your big debut tomorrow or maybe Friday.

We're trying to keep busy, though. Your Poppa and I went to the mall today (and the pound of Sees candy that we bought is almost gone already--oops) and I picked out a card for your birth mother. There's so much I want to say to thank her, but words somehow escape me. I hope I can put onto paper what I've been thinking all along.

Your father and I, realizing that waiting in the hotel room was only making us stir crazy, ended up getting a last minute date in. We walked across the street to Boomer's and played a quick round of miniature golf. Your father must've really been distracted; I beat him by one point. That never happens. I, on the other hand, was totally on it: I got two hole in ones in a row!

So we're back in the hotel room, and your dad and I are going to head downstairs shortly so he can soak in the hot tub before the pool area closes in an hour. I didn't bring my swimsuit, so I'll be sitting poolside hopefully playing some card games with Nonni.

In the meantime, happy travels, little one!

your mommy

Just Hanging Out

Dearest Child of Mine,

We're just hanging out waiting at the hotel. It's about lunch time, and your father, Nonni & Poppa and I are going to grab lunch. The big debate is whether we'll go to a movie while we wait. I say we go to a movie because that means that surely you'll come THEN because we will have just forked over some $40 to see a cartoon that I've already seen.

Your Poppa was just teasing me, saying that I should be journaling the moments as they happen so you can read them one day. I pulled up this screen and showed him that I'm already on it.

So...we continue to wait. We got a call a little while ago from Adoption Kim; apparently you're taking your sweet time getting here and it could be another few days before you arrive. I wonder how long before cabin fever sets in? I don't know that I've got the patience to even let that happen; I think I heard Poppa mention something about a mall. Guess we're going window shopping!

Love you lots,
your mommy

Happy Birthday!

Dearest Child of Mine,

Today, in exactly 45 minutes, your father and I are going to make the trek to Modesto where we'll sit in a Holiday Inn Express and wait for the word that you have made your grand entrance into the world.

This is probably the understatement of the year, but I am so excited to meet you.

My *plan* is to meet you in the hospital and read a a children's book to you. I mentioned it in an earlier post: Tell Me Again About the Night I Was Born.

I don't know if I'll be able to get through it, though. I started crying just reading it to myself silently yesterday. Even this morning, as I write this, tears are welling up in my eyes.

I'll see you today, my little one!

Lots of love,
your mommy

PS Happy Birthday!

We got THE Call!

Dearest Little One,

You aren't even born yet, but you sure are a thoughtful little bambino. You waited until I was done with all of my school obligations and tied up all of the loose ends before letting your birthmom know that you were ready to come out. You also wanted to make sure that I wasn't going anywhere: you waited so that when you were born, your mommy had the exact number of sick days ready to take the rest of the school year off: there are 17 days of school left, and I have exactly 17 sick days saved up for your arrival. For good measure, you even gave yourself the deadline of Wednesday, May 20th (and just for kicks and giggles, you even allowed me 48 hours notice so I can use tomorrow to get things just so for your homecoming this week).

I haven't met you yet, but already, you're my kind of child. Polite, thoughtful, considerate, and right on time. You, my child, ROCK!

If you were wondering where I was when I got THE phone call, it went something like this:

I was at your Nonni & Poppa's house because I had just sold their oven to help pay for your adoption. In fact, they were letting me sell all of the major appliances in their kitchen to help pay for your adoption. It's not that they're planning on spending the remaining years of their lives using a camp stove to make dinner; it's just that when they moved into their new house they didn't much care for the brand new appliances that the bank had put into their kitchen. So, before they even turned the appliances on, they replaced them with the stuff that was more their style and graciously allowed me to sell the "old" appliances online.

Getting back to the point, I was literally just telling Nonni that I had a gut feeling that you were going to come on Wednesday. Last week, as I was preparing my classroom for a sub, it came to me in a flash: Wednesday. I don't know why that came to me, but it was something that kind of just stuck. Then, to make things more interesting, your Auntie EllenAnn called me this weekend to tell me that she had a gut feeling that you were coming on the 20th. We put two and two together, little one, and this Wednesday is the 20th.

So I was finishing up telling your Nonni this (and I'm pretty sure that while she was patiently nodding as I was telling her this, on the inside she was probably thinking that her daughter was a nutjob), when my phone rang. You got it...it was Adoption Kim.

I answered the phone, not quite sure what to expect, when Adoption Kim told me that we have an induction date for your birth mom to bring you into this world: Wednesday, May 20th.

We talked for a while after that, going over details, but frankly, darling, my head was spinning. Your Nonni's eyes about popped out of her head when she heard me repeat the date over the phone and your Poppa just stared at me, soaking it all in. They graciously let me call your father to tell him the news (I think he was as stunned as I was) before asking for all of the details.

While things can change at any time, the plan (for now) is this:

I'm taking tomorrow off to wrap things up at home and clean for your arrival. We're leaving on Wednesday morning to head up to Modesto, where we're supposed to get a hotel room with your Nonni & Papa. Once we're in the hotel, we're supposed to wait for THE call that you, my son or daughter, has made his/her grand debut in the world. When we get THE call, we're going to be able to drop everything and make the mad dash to the hospital where we'll be able to lay eyes on you for the first time.

As we cross all of our t's and dot all of our i's in these hours before you're born, your birthmom is heavy on my heart. I think about her often, as I'm sure you do now. I wonder what she looks like. I wonder how she's doing. I wonder if she's going to be okay in the events of these next few days. I wonder, little one, and I pray for her, because I know it cannot be easy. I've never been in her shoes, but I know that the gift she's giving us is not an easy gift to give. She's told us (through our respective social workers) that she wants us to be your family because it's better than the family she'd be able to provide for you. That takes a lot of courage to be able to make that difficult decision.

I admire your birthmom so much. Not because she chose us, per se, but because she's putting your needs above her own. I don't know too many people who can do just that. She's a precious woman, your birthmom is. I hope, by now, that you're able to see just how wonderfully selfless she is.

It's all hitting me now, my child. We've been waiting to meet you for so long, and this moment is literally hours away. The next time I post, it'll be filled with pictures and details of your arrival. I cannot wait.

Until then,

your mommy

Team Blue or Team Pink?

Dearest Child of Mine,

As I mentioned in yesterday's letter, one of the things your dad and I did this week was get the dogs groomed. We couldn't see their eyes anymore (the abundance of fur all over their face took care of that) and we were pretty sure at one time that Roxy was white and not the mangy brown color that she had been sporting, so off the dogs went to get all purtied up.

We hadn't told the groomer that we were adopting a baby that was dueanyminute, so imagine my surprise when I picked the dogs up and found that each dog was making their baby gender preference known.

Roxy, as you can see by this picture here, clearly is voting for team pink:

Isn't she just the cutest thing? Can you see why

I'm a sucker for those big brown eyes of hers?

Maynerd, on the other hand, is making it known that HE is all for team blue and clearly wants another boy to round out the family.

You can kind of see the blue ribbon peeking out

from the side of his face. He's giving me his "Why are you

taking a picture of me NOW?" face. He's very good at it.

And then I took a classic example of 99% of the pictures that we've got of both of the dogs. Roxy's looking pretty alright and clearly has facial features. Maynerd, on the other hand, is so dark that we're only left to assume that somewhere in there are two eyes, a nose and a mouth. Flashes are useless because then he looks like he's possessed by the green Devil. Sigh. Poor guy. He's so awesomely good looking, but no one would ever know it unless you saw him in person.


You can see why I'm not the only one who's in a hurry for you to get here. Our dogs are clearly tired of being photographed ALL THE TIME and are more than willing to hand over the reigns.

Loving you tons,
your mommy