Scott and I returned from Mexico feeling great. For two very white thirty-somethings we looked pretty good sporting our new tans. We felt refreshed. We felt like a new couple. Boarding the little island hopper plane back to the mainland, we both knew we were heading back to the land of uncertainty and questions. We were not looking forward to what lay ahead.

A new school year began and I was busy setting up my new classroom. Scott got back into the swing of things at work. We ignored the elephant that sat in the middle of our living room floor every night we returned home from work. We figured if we didn't talk about it, it would just go away. That didn't last long.

We knew we had to make some decisions regarding our future. We knew if we wanted to have a family, adoption was the path destined for us. We were nervous we would be rejected again. The door had been slammed in our face once, we were not ready to hear it slam again.

We prayed, talked to other adoptive parents, and of course, surfed the web. We knew we wanted a domestic adoption, since we were not prepared for the paperwork, the travel, and the expense of an international adoption. After a lot of consideration, we decided to we wanted to work with an agency that shared our faith. We knew it was a gamble, working with a small agency. The pool of birthmothers is much smaller, and the wait can be long. Yet we felt that was the way to go.

The first day we stepped foot into the waiting room of our new agency, we knew. Gone were the marble floors, fresh cut flowers and antique furniture. Martha Stewart wouldn't be caught dead in this place. The paneled walls and brown tweed furniture gave the place the aura of a Salvation Army store. The building smelled old. We knew we were home.

We met with the Director of Domestic Adoptions. A tall, white haired man who spent his younger days as a pastor of a church. He was humble, kind, soft-spoken and listened to us as we spoke. We hit it off right away. He told us all about the agency and their policies. We knew we were in the right place. We knew that this was the place where our family would grow.

Our lovely case worker led us through countless hours of counseling. We attended every meeting the agency recommended. We read books, wrote our autobiographies, were fingerprinted and even had to draw out an emergency evacuation plan for our home. The case worker believed Scott's adoption was an asset, not a hinderance. We spent time in prayer with the staff and we knew our child was out there, somewhere, waiting to be born.

We just had to be patient. We were told it could take up to eighteen months. We were prepared to wait as long as God had planned. Everything felt right.Nine months after our initial visit with the Director, we got the call. We made arrangements and hopped in the car to go and visit our new angel, Danielle. She wanted to meet with us and discuss the possibility of becoming parents to her newborn son. This was it. We were ready.