Moving (or One time... at Band Practice)

So....in the next week or so, ejandhenry.com will be moving. I haven't yet decided where she will be moving to. But we'll be undergoing a pretty major renovation and changing blog names. But never fear, I'm sure I can figure out a way that if you come to ejandhenry.com, it'll will bounce you to our new home. At the very least, I'll simply post a link and you can click off to my new blog.

Why the big change? Thank you for asking. I could jump to the punch line, but like Maria said, Let's start at the very beginning. It's a very good place to start.

Last Thursday, I had taken Henry to watch the marching band practice at the high school down the street. He loves to march and run around the fields while they play and circle the high school. On this particular day, Henry had decided to "ride" his bike the half mile or so to the school. And by ride, I mean occasionally pedal while I use the parent push bar. So we're running around, enjoying life without a cast, trying not to interfere with the JV field hockey practice, when I get a call from Sloan.

"Where are you?" he asks. "Um, at band practice." "Oh, no wonder they called me. I just got a cryptic call from Bethany, but my phone is about to die so I told her I'd call her when I got to the hotel." (He's on a business trip.) "What did she want? Was it Valerie?" (our usual case worker) "No. It wasn't Valerie. And I'm not sure what she wanted," Sloan said.

Oh. My. Gosh.

Never before have I noticed how long a half mile really is when attempting to speed up a toddler who is OVER riding his bike. Half the time I was pushing the empty bike while jogging and simply holding him by his waist sideways at my hip. He did not like this. I know this because he was screaming and crying to go back and "See da band." But Mommy had to get home to call the adoption agency. I thought it was probably because I'd emailed our case worker about feedback in regards to our profile. I wanted to know if it was being shown and what birthmoms were saying about it. This is not what the call was about. It was THE CALL. You know, the call where someone says, "Elizabeth, you have been selected by a birthmother and she would like to meet you."

And, oh yeah, by the way, the little girl who may or may not be your daughter was born yesterday and could be resting in your home on November 2nd. WHAT?!? Or as my pastor put it, "Someone greased the wheels of your roller coaster."

We met the birthmother yesterday. (Was it yesterday? It is now 3:50am. I cannot sleep from sheer excitement. Note to self--buy Tylenol PM tomorrow. Today.) Well, in the words of our daughter's birthmom, "She has been your daughter always. Since before I gave birth to her."

We also got to meet our daughter, Emma Sloan Denise, at her interim care Mommy's house. (She'll be taking care of Emma until the birthmom's rights have been legally terminated.) We will be bringing Emma home on Monday, November 2nd. We chose the name Emma because a) I love love love that name and b) my grandmother's names were Elizabeth and Margaret and it combines the beginnings of both their names. We chose to keep the middle name her birthmom gave her, Denise, because Denise is the name of Emma's biological grandmother as well. If Emma complains about having too many names, I'll understand, having grown up Elizabeth Jean Ann. I'll simply tell her the same thing my mom told me, "Sorry you're loved by so many people. When you get married, you can change it."

It has been a whirlwind at our house. Painters began yesterday in both kids rooms. (We've had the redo of Henry's room on the docket for awhile. New ceilings, trim, the works for him as his room once was black and the white ceiling looks more like a cow.) Emma's room will have three lime green walls and one pink wall. We got her a new crib this past weekend (Henry broke his crib and Pottery Barn replaced it!), along with pink crib sheets and other yummy pink things. Now that I know for sure she is ours, I have been given the go ahead by Sloan to make a trip to Babies R Us. I am just supposed to remember that we already have a lot of stuff and that she doesn't have to wear all pink all the time.

But yes she does. Because I have a beautiful baby girl. I am hers and she is mine.