As Michael and I faced the possibility of losing our child again, we tried to be positive and have faith. We felt we had handled the adoption in the best way possible and we had to believe that God was going to work this out.
Michael had been planning a bike trip up the shoreline of Lake Michigan with a good friend. It was decided that Scotty and I would stay with his wife, who was also my best friend. I waited for Marcia’s call all week and received no word from her. My imagination played enormous tricks on me and the fear of losing Scott did nothing to lower my already high blood pressure. After a week of silence, I finally worked up my nerve to call Marcia.
“Marcia, this is Lori. I’ve been waiting for your call all week regarding whether or not the agency is planning to take Scott out of our home.”
She hesitated. “I talked to the agency about the situation and they have decided that it would not be in the best interest of Scott to be moved to another home.”
“Thank you.” I said, quickly hanging up before she changed her words. My friend, Roseann, stood beside me waiting for confirmation of what she wanted to hear. Instead of a happy Lori; however, she saw a spitfire with angry eyes.
“I don’t think she intended to call back at all!” I concluded. “I think she was going to just let us wonder and lay in our own fear indefinitely!”
“They aren’t not taking him back, right?”
“No, they aren’t taking him back. Thank God.” I held Scotty close and said a prayer of Thanksgiving. Now it was time to let it go and turn some of our attention to baby #2 who was demanding increasingly more of my body.
The doctor was unhappy with my blood pressure and the swelling in my legs and ankles at my weekly appointment. It had been a little over two weeks since Scotty had arrived.
“I want you in the hospital next week. I think this baby is becoming stressed and your body is certainly stressed.” Michael was back from his trip and had gone to my appointment with me. I noticed the circles under his eyes. He was tired. I wondered if I had circles under my eyes.
We had moved Scotty’s crib into our room to try to get him used to sleeping in the crib, but all night long he would raise his legs high in the air and then let them drop with a loud thump. We started calling him “Thumper” and would try different strategies to try to get him to stop, but it was too fun for him, I guess and he continued thumping randomly through the night.
He continued his happy routines. He seldom cried and engaged everyone around him to entertain him. He was irresistible. I walked to the mall, about 8 blocks away, several times a week. I was shocked on one of these occasions when a teenage boy, after getting a glimpse of Scott, said, “Look, a little chink.” I didn’t know what a ‘chink’ was and when Michael explained to me, I felt anger at the young man for his prejudice, but I also realized at that moment that I had a bi-racial family. I decided to do my best to protect Scott from the ignorance of those around us and I pledged to honor his heritage the best I could. I had nicknamed him “bear,” because he reminded me of a little brown bear when he cuddled in to our arms. How I loved him! I knew it was going to be hard to go to the hospital the next week and leave him behind, but I also knew the rest of the puzzle would soon be revealed and the second half of a double blessing was soon on its way!!
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