We were well on our way to adopting our oldest four boys in early July, 2004. We had the goodbye visit with their birth mother just before Christmas, so we had not seen her in over six months. Caleb was 18 months old and for some funny reason, we had started saying things like we had lost our baby. We had even told our adoption agency and the state that we might be willing to take another child. It was not so much an intention as it was our attitude.
One morning, the phone rang and Nancy answered it. She got mad and then she got excited. I had no idea what was going on, but the conversation had my attention. She told whoever was on the line that she had to ask me if I agreed with what she thought we should do.
The conversation had gone this way. It was our adoption agency worker and she told Nancy that she had better sit down. That scared Nancy because in the adoption process, you are always worried that something will go wrong. Those of you who have adopted know exactly what I am writing about.
Ruby said that nothing was wrong, but that she had some news and maybe Nancy should sit down to hear it. The news was that Lola had given birth to another boy and we needed to immediately decide if we would take him.
Nancy first got mad at Lola. We saw the condition she was in at Christmas. Then she realized that we had another boy. She had to ask me but she knew what my response would be. I immediately said yes.
There were complications. Someone with the state had already assessed the situation and placed Isaiah with another family that wanted to adopt him. She had done this in spite of the state’s mandate to keep siblings together when possible.
A bureaucratic squabble was about to begin. Several people were about to find out that I had been a negotiator for 30 years and that I am very hardheaded. They were also about to find out that Ruby was not someone that should ever be taken for granted. Round One of the fight for Isaiah was about to begin.