From my earliest of memories I wanted to be a Dad. Not just a father, not just a parent, but a dad.
I grew up in a small town in Upstate, N.Y. and after graduate school decided to move to New York City to pursue a career in entertainment. After months of grueling hard work the roles started coming in and I was content with the path my life was on. Eventually I decided to start dating, and looked into dating-scene options.
One day, while chatting online, a young, handsome and intelligent Filipino pulled me into chat. A few hours later we confirmed the details of our first date. Our entire first date was spent talking about the dream of children, and importance of our faith. Seven years later we were living in Washington D.C., married, working, and filling out adoption paperwork. We attended countless adoption meetings/seminars forums and read more on the topic than we thought possible. Finally, the day came when we handed in our birth mother book (the final process) with hope in our hearts and prayer in our souls. From there, we were told to simply go on with our lives and wait for a call.
One evening, fourteen months after handing in our book, as we were about to sit for dinner my cell phone rang. I picked it up and was greeted by our social worker.
“Jason?” she asked.
Surprised I hesitantly responded, “Yes.”
She asked if Eric was home and to please put him on speaker. Our social worker rarely called my cell phone and never asked to be put on speaker. My heart started racing.
Our social worker proceeded to share with us that a birth mother went through quite a few books before handing her ours. After several pages, she closed our book and said, “I do not need to look any further, I choose this couple!” The illumination from our smiles lit the dining area like an O.R. surgery room. We started dancing to music that was not playing. To say our elation was through the roof would be an understatement.
Our birth mother was seven months pregnant and wanted us to immediately start attending doctor visits with her. Over the next eight weeks, we accompanied her to every doctor visit, heard our baby’s heartbeat, took home all of the sonograms and started purchasing the necessary baby items.
The day came when we left our house for the final time as a couple. The next time we would walk through our doors we would be a family. We rushed to the hospital where, for hours, we sat, talked, watched movies, laughed and cried with the birth-mother.
The moment came when we needed to start pushing. Eric (Daddy) starting counting contractions and I (Papa) held the birth mother’s legs and helped her breathe. Our hearts were racing but holding back the tears of excitement was most daunting of all. Twenty-two minutes later, Daddy was cutting the cord, and Papa had his son bare chest to bare chest. We sat with our son hugging one another, crying, thanking God and sitting in awe at this miracle in our hands and life.
We are beyond blessed to help raise one of God’s precious miracles and Luke, our precious angel, has simply brought us together more than we could have ever imagined. It is indescribable how much more love and laughter is in our home and lives with our little bundle of joy.
Today Luke is a healthy happy thriving three year old and ready to be a big brother. His wish will be granted very soon as we completed the home-study process for our second adoption, and now are just waiting for that call.