Deep Breaths

Part of me made myself believe the paternity test would be positive. That this whole thing would stop in its tracks. Part of me prepared for the worst.

But not all of me. God has been doing a long, good work of hope in me. Even as we waited in those final hours willing the phone to ring, my heart alternated between pounding and peace. It was not all panic, it was not all worry.

And then the phone rang. My heart leaped into my throat. Here we go. I will know by the tone of voice, before my case worker even says a word. I will know.

Me: Hello?
CW: Carolyn? (brightness and cheer in her voice, hope warms!)
Me: So? (who needs the formalities of small talk when you are waiting on a call like this)
CW: I have good news. Really good news.
Me: (Tears. Again. Seriously, who knew the fruition of this wait would involve so many?)

We spoke for a few more minutes. And these minutes had the air of the definitive. The birth mother is holding strong on her decision and this possible birth father is out of the picture now. We will see you Thursday at this time and this place. Bring your diaper bag. You'll have to sign forms. Then it's time. Time for him to go home.

I hang up the phone and take a deep breath. This blip, this complication was nothing more than that. It's over. And it's time to unpress "pause" and finish getting ready. Here we go.

Daring to hope, daring to dream that the wait is almost over.