Saved by the soccerball!

As the Scott story progressed in our lives, other stories progressed as well.  Michael was in the midst of becoming an ordained minister in the United Methodist Church, I continued to teach special education until I became toxemic in May.  My doctor recommended I quit teaching two weeks early due to high blood pressure and toxemia.  To be honest, even though I knew I would miss my students, I was glad for the rest.  I was not a person who handled pregnancy well.  I enjoyed very few moments of it and I was impatient to “get on with it!”  The adoption process seemed to drag on for so long that I had a difficult time putting my pregnancy into perspective.  But then, the phone rang…

            “Hello.”  I answered

            “Lori, this is Marcia.”  My heart fluttered and my knees were weak. 

            “Hi, Marcia.  What’s up?”

            “Are you busy on June 4^th?” she teased.

            “I don’t know, am I?”

            “Well, if you can be there, your son will arrive at O’Hare airport at 7:48 p.m.”

            “We’ll be there.” I said, writing down the flight and gate numbers.

            As the conversation drew to a close, she spoke again.

            “Lori, there is only one problem.” she began.  My heart stopped.

            “What’s that?” I asked.

            “My son has a soccer game that night.  Do you and Mike mind too much if I’m not able to come?”

            I looked down at my protruding tummy.  I had been having nightmares about her refusing to give us Scott because I had the audacity to show up at O’Hare airport obviously pregnant.  She had not seen us since the first part of May when it was still cool enough to wear my oversized trench coat.

            “I think we can handle it.” I said, smiling at the prospect.

            “But I will see you a week later at your home,” she promised.

            “Okay.” I agreed dancing around the house as well as a happy, fat woman can dance on swollen legs.

            I hung up.  Michael was gone when the call came but would be home soon for supper.

            Finally, he came through the door. 

            “It’s about time, Daddy!” I teased.

            “Marcia called?” he asked.

            “Yep.  Baby #1 will be delivered on June 4^th, O’Hare airport.”

            “Yes!” he yelled.  It seemed things were finally happening.  “I’ll get the van rented, and we just need to let everyone know.”

            We had decided to invite 14 of our best friends to join us in our “pickup” adventure.  One family of three would meet us at the airport.  The other three families would ride in a van with us.

            “Oh, but there is only one problem.” I said seriously.

            “What’s that?” Michael asked.

            “Marcia’s son has a soccer game that night and she won’t be able to meet us at the airport.”  I smile.

            Michael looked at my big belly, whispered “Praise the Lord,” and then turned to the phone starting to call our friends to share our news.

            Our son was finally coming home.  The baby I longed for would soon be in my arms followed shortly thereafter by his little brother or sister who would enter the world whenever he/she chose.

            Needless to say, there wasn’t much sleeping in the Tupper household that night!  Our dreams were within reach—so close we could almost feel them brushing the tips of our fingertips.   

            I laid on the bed, elevating my feet, and then proceeded to dream about my baby boy who would soon be home.