The story of Grif. {PART 2}

14 hours after we were chosen to be his family, we were on an airplane, flying across the country to meet our son. And the calmness in my heart radiated through my bones, and steadied our stride. I sat in awe, just thinking of the opportunity I had been given to be in this family. This family. I was certain the whole world knew I was the luckiest girl in the world, at this very moment.

I was struck at how beautiful his birthmom was. She hardly looked pregnant sitting behind the table at the restaurant. Throughout our entire conversation, I inefficiently tried to grasp the minutes that were slipping by, desperately trying to record within my brain, everything about this woman. The mother of my child. She was going to change our entire life.

We talked for hours.

Strangers just trying to get to know each other.

With tears staining our expressions, she explained the compelling love she has for her son; the deep, absolute, complete love. More than anything in the world, she wanted him to have a brilliant life; one different than her own.

How incredible. Selfless. Heart-breaking.

As we stood up to leave, my mind was reeling, trying to think of how I could express what my heart wanted her to know. I couldn't think of the words that would adequately testify of how grateful we were, and how we could never thank her enough. No words could do us justice.

Then, she actually hugged me, and said, “Thank you.”

I froze, because, really, how do you respond to someone that you owe your life to, who is willing to do so much for their child---to change their whole existence? How do you thank someone, who just thanked you? If I was stumped for words before, her gracious heart held mine numb.

As we loaded our brood into the van, we received a text message from our social worker:

She loves you. She is in. 100% in. Now we wait for baby...

Driving away, from the parking lot, our lives would never be the same.