And then the door opened.
In walked a pleasant woman with a chubby bundle in her arms. Without hesitation, she approached us and placed the bundle in my arms. “Here is your new daughter!” she said with a smile.
We looked down and could hardly believe what we saw. Sleepy hazel eyes looked up at us from a sweet round face with a fuzzy head of soft blond hair. We reached out and touched the soft skin and chubby wrinkles of her dimpled hands and arms. “Hi, baby,” I heard my husband say softly as I tried to grasp that all of this was truly happening, for real.
In the minutes that followed much was said to us but most of it remains a blur. All that really mattered was that I was holding a beautiful baby girl in my arms, just 48 hours after learning of her existence … and somehow, she was ours.
And that was the moment of meeting Eva. The meeting of a miracle … a miracle through adoption.
Many months of anxious waiting had passed, and we were down to the final hours. Nighttime came, darkness fell and we turned out the light with questions still lingering in our hearts and minds. What was happening? And when would we know?
The telephone’s ring jolted us back to reality and minutes after receiving the news, we were on the phone again, calling loved ones and requesting prayer for this startling and sudden turn of events. The night passed quickly and morning found us in sterile gowns with freshly scrubbed hands and arms, looking down on a red-faced baby girl decked out in wires and tubes and crying pitifully.
It wasn’t the meeting we had envisioned. But in every sense of the word, this baby girl was a miracle. From the surprising way she entered our lives, to the frightening way she entered the world … and looking down at her, a rush of love and protective concern cemented that this was indeed a meeting that was meant to be. The meeting of another miracle … a miracle through adoption.
We followed the nurse through the double doors and past numerous tiny beds housing sleeping infants. The soft whir of machines whispered throughout the quiet environment, and finally we stopped in front of one particular room. Inside was one tiny bed and inside that bed, one tiny boy. This was not a chubby-cheeked bundle or a red-faced baby girl, but two skinny little arms and two scrawny little legs and a cap of wild, soft black hair.
To say love at first sight might be an understatement. Tears blurred my eyes as this tiny person was placed on my chest and I looked down on what had only been a dream for so long and through so many heartbreaks.
Yes, this was the meeting of yet another miracle … another miracle through adoption.
It could be a sterile office or a hospital nursery or a designated meeting room in an orphanage thousands of miles away …
I just wonder, Where will you meet your miracle?