Adoption Story ::: Reunion

Well, I’m not sure exactly where to begin in describing this past weekend, other than to say that it was very, very good and that God is very, very good. I’ll do my best to recount what I can put into words.

I arrived at the airport on Friday night in a fairly normal but excited state. A little over an hour later, I was seeing and hugging the woman who 28 years ago gave me life, which of course I can never adequately thank or repay her for, ever. She handed me a huge bouquet of roses, which I did not at the time count or read the card for. That was the end of my state of normalcy for the rest of the night and most of the weekend. The next hour or so was marked by our awkward attempts to get her bags, get to the car, get out of the airport, and finally sit down somewhere so that we could think and talk. I began to realize after sitting down at the restaurant that I would not be able to eat, as my stomach was in knots and getting worse by the minute. After having seen Marcia in pictures, having read her written thoughts, and having spoken on the phone, it was still surreal to see her sitting in front of me, staring back at me. She seemed so calm and collected, and she thankfully had the composure to make conversation and did a pretty good job of getting at least some conversation out of me. I honestly don’t remember much of what we talked about over our meal, but I think we mostly caught up on things that we knew about each other already from previous communications. After she ate and I picked at my food, we had a little coffee and then left to go to her hotel. I went up to her room with her, and we each had gifts that we wanted to give one another. I sat down for a little while and we finally did talk about some things from the past, about my birth and adoption and her decisions and feelings from that time. Our fears and concerns were revealed, and it was amazing to realize the work that God had done in both of our hearts to prepare us for this time. We found that there is no resentment or denial or regret, only the realization that God’s will was done then and is still being done now. With more ground still to cover, we decided to call it a night, as it was after midnight, and I returned to my home for the night. When I got home, I set down the roses on my kitchen counter, grabbed a vase, and saw the card when I went to open the container. It was only then that I noticed there were 28 roses in that box, “one for every year we have been apart”. Wow, I wish I had been sitting down when I noticed that. My friends Holly and Emily from Augusta were staying with me that night, so I spent a little time updating them on the night and pinching myself to make sure I wasn’t dreaming. Yes, I had actually just met my birth mother, and yes, she was real. Wow.

For the remainder of the weekend, we continued to catch up on lost time, lost years, and we gradually became more comfortable with one another. My stomach didn’t fully recover until Tuesday, but I was able to eat a little more throughout the weekend. We found that we have some things in common that are genetic and some that may not be genetic. We talked, laughed, cried, and mostly just relaxed. We both talked to our respective families, who were all sharing in our excitement, and we talked about meeting them all in the near future. Saturday afternoon, we went to Piedmont Park and enjoyed a gorgeous Fall day here in Atlanta. Saturday evening we met some of our respective friends for dinner. Holly and Emily joined us, and Marcia’s friend Jeanette was also able to join us. It was amazing to be able to share each other and our new relationship with those close friends. After dinner, Marcia and I followed Holly and Emily to the airport to greet Julie, who was returning from a mission trip to Ghana. We visited for a few short but worthwhile moments, then Holly, Emily, and Julie returned to Augusta. Sunday, Marcia and I attended a church that I was visiting for the second time. It was a wonderful service in its own right, but it was especially a blessing have her there alongside me in worship. Sunday night, we cooked dinner at my place, made a fire in the fireplace, and enjoyed sharing photos with each other. Marcia gave me a nice album with pictures of her family, now also part of my family, and she introduced me to everyone that I will soon meet in person. Knowing that I have a very small family, she has been very careful to slowly reveal to me the amount of people that are now ready to embrace me as one of their own. I have to admit, this is a strange new thing, and thankfully she and they are all very sensitive to my position as I get to know them.

Monday afternoon, I took Marcia to the airport. We spent the last few minutes of the weekend realizing that it still didn’t seem quite real, that we didn’t seem quite real to each other. But we are real, and this is real, and we are blessed.