Our World Gets ROCKED! And you won't believe HOW

There we were, sitting in ATL waiting to get on the next plane flight to my parent's when my phone rang. I didn't answer it, but when I got on the plane I listened to the voicemail. It was Melanie, our R&C worker. The message was simple:

"I need to talk to you and Michael about something very important. I need you to call me back ASAP - today."

The plane was about to take off and the cell-phone police would soon be scouring the isles looking for non-compliant passengers. I figured I could call her 90 minutes later when we landed and see what was up.

Michael and I played a fantasy guessing game about what she might be calling about. It was everything from Ginger's Aunt being arrested, to previous foster children who were back in the system again and needed a place to go, to benign things like our training hours or adoption subsidy. At any rate, we settled in to the flight with a wiggly toddler.

When we landed in FL, as soon as the seat belt sign went off, my phone began ringing again. It was Melanie. This time I answered. Here's how the conversation began:

T: "Hey Melanie!"
M: "Hi Tamara. Well, Cookie has a sibling."
T: (thinking I heard wrong). Huh?
M: "I said YOUR CHILD HAS A SIBLING."
T: OH MY GOD! THEY FOUND J!
M: Yup. I think she's in jail.
T: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD...When was the baby born?
M: Actually, as of 8:30 this morning (the 25th), J was in labor, but the baby hasn't come yet.
T: OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD (I obviously loose linguistic creativity here)...
M: Do you want the baby?
T: OF COURSE we want the baby! But we just landed in Florida!

The rest of the conversation that transpired on the plane was Melanie telling me that if we wanted the baby, we had to immediately turn around and come home to get the baby from the hospital. I asked about letting the baby go to a temporary foster home until we got back. She said she could ask, but was certain "they" (I guess the social worker powers that be) would not approve that. She said she was sorry, but we had to decide NOW if we could commit to come back and abandon our vacation.

I said a quick prayer in my head. I looked at Michael sitting next to me holding a crying and exhausted Cookie. I saw flight attendants approaching us on a now vacant airplane. I gulped and gave the hardest answer of my life.

"We want this baby so bad, Melanie. But I'm sorry. Please ask for us if the baby can go elsewhere for now. But we can't come back right now. We just can't. We just landed. We won't even get to my parent's house for another two hours. I'm so sorry. I really am."

Melanie said she understood and would get back to us later.

Shaken to my core, I left the plane with Michael and Cookie.

My mom was waiting for us, worried that even the pilots had come off the plane, but we had not.

Clearly, I was shaken. I told mom the whole story. SHE then began the familiar freak-out. She called my sister-in-law who also freaked out. And we all agreed to at least stop for food before making the 90-minute trip to my parents home.

So there we were, in a fast-food chicken and seafood joint - me, Michael, Cookie, my mom, and later my brother and his wife. And we were all shaken by the story of Cookie's sibling being born. We were all brainstorming ways we could get back home and not ruin the vacation or Cookie's time with her grandparents.

Then...my phone rang.

It was Melanie.

"Tamara. They sent J. back to jail. Apparently she went into labor too early - at 36 weeks, so they stopped it and sent her back. She's not going to have the baby today, but will within the next 4 weeks. So, I guess you're off the hook!"

I started to tear up.

"Oh Melanie. This is great news. I'll keep the phone nearby, because we WILL get there to get this baby."

Melanie said she would call as soon as she knew anything.

I hung up and wiped away tears. I told my family at the table. We praised God.

HE had handled it all. We thought it was our job, but HE was in control all along.

It's Sat. night, and no news yet. We aren't scheduled to be back home for 2 more weeks, so we need prayer that the baby stays put! If not, we'll change our tickets and hightail it back.

We don't know if it's a boy or a girl. We don't know who the daddy might be (Cookie's biodad is incarcerated.) I imagine this one could take a while, too. I imagine the daddy could check out OK (and pigs might fly), or the family members of said daddy check out (and monkeys...). Well, but God's already working on all that.

As soon as I know, believe me, I'll run to the nearest computer. Meanwhile, please pray for all of us - and J. (who we learned is indeed in jail) and the unborn baby (who was likely exposed to incredible amounts of cocaine).

Love,
Tamara