“His name is John.” That was what the social worker at the other end of the phone said. Finally, after 36 years of searching for that baby boy born on a cold winter night, I knew his name. As I said it over and over again, tears of joy streamed down my face. Next she said, “Your son would like to meet you.” It is hard to explain the feeling that went through me at that moment– I learned that it is possible to laugh and cry hysterically at the same time.
The social worker told me that after the proper papers were filled out and filed, she could give him my phone number. The days of waiting seemed like months. Then, finally, the call came. We talked and talked. He was still living in Utah, the place where he had been born and also adopted. I was now living in Arizona.
Within days of our first phone call, he was on a plane for Arizona. There were a few rocky times in the beginning; however, to make a long story short, he now lives in Arizona and has a good relationship with his extended birth family. I traveled to Utah to meet his adoptive parents. Upon meeting his mother, we instantly took each other in our arms and cried. What a wonderful reunion. His mother and I have since become best friends. The rest of my family just loves her. My grandchildren even call her Grandma.
With prayer and faith anything is possible.
