“I just spoke to the director. He will call me when they’re about five minutes away.”

It’s almost time. My heart is almost uncontainable.
Everything.
All of this.
It’s about to happen.
So many months, years, planning for this moment…

Even though I shouldn’t be surprised, being a part of and seeing just a tiny piece of God’s enormous plan continues to leave me breathless. Before we were married, my husband and I discussed how we would one day like to adopt. Have two, adopt two… that was always the plan!

As our family multiplied, and our “have two” were busy making a mess of the living room (and every other room, who am I kidding?!) my mind would occasionally wander to our “adopt two”…
Were they born yet?
Had we missed our timing?
Did we say “not yet” when they were already waiting for us?
Would we ever be really ready?

Another adoptive mamma grabbed my cell phone and started recording. “You never know when he’ll get here. I’m getting this on film.”

Just as she hits record, his car pulls up, and everything else around me seems to blur. How are you supposed to feel when you’re about to meet your son? I am giddy. And already crying.

Oh gracious, I’m crying! He’s going to think I’m a basket case. Pull yourself together!

There were a lot of times when we’d discuss adoption and come to the conclusion that it wasn’t time yet, but one time it was different. Somewhere in my heart, I knew that it was time. Were we ready? Not at all. Was God ready? Of course!

We began researching agencies, and came across a photo listing of special focus children. My heart kept being drawn to one child… his picture jumped off of the page! How had someone not scooped him up already? I clicked on his profile and read that he was born with a condition called bilateral microtia, or underdevelopment of both external ears. My breath caught in my throat – I hadn’t even noticed that in his picture! But the neatest part – (ready for God’s big puzzle?) – I am fluent in American Sign Language, and had always wondered where that knowledge would come into play later in life (insert puzzle piece here!).

My whole life, God had been preparing me for this time and this child, and all we had to do was say ‘yes’. I’m not sure it could have been a clearer answer for us. Scary, of course, but if He’s prepared us this much already, I’m sure He’s got the details well under control.

He steps out of the car… he’s so tiny. So scared, but putting on such a brave face. The director leads him over to us, gets out the family picture book we sent to him, and introduces him to his new Mama and Baba.

Still (understandably) and bit apprehensive, some toy airplanes seem to soften the mood a bit, and produce our first smile or two, as well. We get the paperwork out of the way, and spend the rest of our first evening together laughing over slurping up noodles at dinner, taking a million selfies, and strolling through the park where he said his “first word”: tree!

Once we came home we headed off to our local Children’s hospital to get hime checked out by the ENT. While microtia can be part of a larger syndrome, our son’s case appears isolated. He is otherwise an incredibly healthy ball of energy.

He is able to hear some without any assistance (which surprised us!), and he now has a Ponto bone anchored hearing system that enables him to hear even the quietest whisper. His vocabulary is growing every single day, and he continues to amaze me with how quickly he’s adapting to his new life.

We’re leaving the decision for reconstructive surgery up to him once he’s a bit older, but I secretly hope that he chooses to rock his little ears!

Like every other condition, microtia doesn’t define him, but it’s a little part of his big story. I don’t know how the rest of the story will go, but I sure can’t wait to be a part of it.

– guest post by Erin