On December 15, 2007, a baby boy was born. Knowing she could not keep him, his birth mom gave him the name Tristan and left him in the care of the nurses. Six days later, an adoption worker looking for a good home for Tristan came across our home study and decided ours would be the perfect home for this baby boy. On Friday morning, just one day after receiving official notification that we were approved as an adoptive family, I got a phone call that I will never forget. I was at work, it was about 9:30 the day before Christmas break, and I had just finished helping Santa give gifts to the boys and girls at my school. It was Rosemary, our adoption worker, and the conversation was like something out of a Hallmark movie. "Vicki, we have an infant that we need to place in an adoptive home. The problem is he needs to go home tonight, before the holiday. I know its last minute, but we think he'd be a great match for your family." She went on to tell me all kinds of things that I can't even remember anymore. All I kept thinking was, "A baby that needs a home before Christmas? When can I get him?!" I told her that I needed to call Joe and that I would call her back with a final decision.
At this point I was shaking. I went to the office to call Joe where there was more privacy. Well, as soon as I told the secretary why I needed privacy, there was none! My principal and the school nurse stood by excitedly as I calmly (yeah right!) explained the situation to Joe. It went something like this: "Joe we've been chosen! They have a baby boy for us and he's in the hospital because he's only a week old and he needs a home before Christmas and he...Oh my gosh! I forgot to ask what his name is! Can we say yes? Can I call her back and say yes??" Joe tried slowing me down and getting the facts. It didn't work. He insisted that I should call Rosemary back and ask if this is a forever placement or just temporary. I tried to calm down and explain to him that this was it, the child we'd been waiting for. I managed to convey to him that I had already confirmed with Rosemary that this was the real thing, and he agreed that we could say yes. I called Rosemary back and asked her when we would be getting him. She explained that we would probably need to go to the hospital and pick him up and that she would call me back with more details. At this point, she didn't even know what his name was! She told me that I should stay at work and wait to hear back from her.
I spent the next hour calling family members and explaining things to people at work. There was a lot of hugging and congratulations and several people gathered around me in the office when I got the next call. This was Rosemary telling me that my new son's name was Tristan and giving me some other details about him. I started writing down information and holding it up for people to look at. It was like a dream. I decided it was time to go home and wait for Tristan's social worker to call and tell me when we could pick him up. Joe was already on his way home and I needed to get the bassinet and other baby paraphernalia out of the attic.
One of my co-workers saw me before I left and asked me why I was here and not at the store. I didn't understand what she meant. She pointed out that the baby would need diapers, formula, bottles, etc. I gasped. I hadn't thought of all that! I needed to go to the store! I drove to CVS and frantically began grabbing baby things. I had called the hospital to ask what formula to buy, but they give the newborns two different kinds and couldn't tell me which one Tristan was on. I decided to ask the pharmacist for help. "Excuse me, my baby might be addicted to cocaine, is there a particular formula you'd recommend?" The look on her face reminded me that I might need to explain my situation a little clearer. After further explanation, she told me that I should just stick to what the hospital was using. So, I gave up on formula and headed for baby bottles and diapers. (Side note: Tristan was not addicted to cocaine nor is there any formula that would even remotely help if he were, so that was a silly question for several reasons, but I digress.) I later realized that I had gotten the wrong bottles and the wrong size diapers so really my trip to CVS was for naught, but Auntie Lissa went to Target and got everything I needed so it all worked out in the end.
Anyhow, I got home, called Tristan's social worker, and left her a message telling her to call me back and tell me when to head to the hospital. Then, I headed to the attic and began tossing down all the baby stuff I could find. Auntie Rachael was there waiting for Grammie to drop Quin off (it was still only about 11:30 and I was supposed to be at work) so she helped me decide what needed to come down now (car seat, clothes) and what could wait (baby gym, bouncy seat). Hey, it was hard to prioritize at this point. Tristan's social worker called back a little while later and told me that they had to get him from the hospital and bring him to the office because the hospital needed to discharge him. I could either pick him up or they would drop him off. I explained that I was currently in the attic looking for the car seat and it might be more timely if they dropped him off. That is how it came to be that newborn baby Tristan was dropped right at my front door by the stork (AKA Tricia, the social worker).
When Joe got home, I was going through baby clothes and my mother and Rachael were helping with laundry. Joe put together the bassinet and started cleaning the refrigerator while we waited for the baby to arrive. (What? He was nesting!) At about 2:00 Tristan arrived! Joe and I took turns snuggling him while Tricia told us more about him.
Poor Quin had been in taking a nap and woke up to find a new family member in the house! He spent the first few hours actively ignoring Tristan (Baby? What baby? I don't see a baby!) but eventually came over and acknowledged the new baby by beeping Tristan's nose.
Tristan was born on December 15 and weighed 8 lbs even. He was measured at 18 inches but was actually more like 19, 19 1/2 inches long. He was welcomed home on December 21, 2007, at 2:00 pm. He has black hair that looks curly when its wet and deep dark eyes that sparkle at you when he's awake. He has a beautiful light brown complexion due to his bi-racial background. He is a normal, healthy infant, and the visiting nurses and his pediatrician have told us that they see no signs of drug addiction or withdrawal. And that is Tristan's story, or the beginning of it anyhow.
The most common question we have gotten about Tristan is not really about Tristan. Many people ask about his birth mom and many people are surprised at what we have to say. Although she may not have made the best decisions, she knew she couldn't care for Tristan and she left him with capable people knowing that they would work hard to find him a good home. The bottom line is, without her, we would not have Tristan. For that reason, I will always feel gratitude and good will toward her. I pray every night that she knows that her son is in a loving home and that she doesn't worry about him. Keeping the name she gave him at birth was important to us because we want Tristan to know that his birth mother loved him and gave him all that she could, even if it was just a name. 
