Over eight years ago Lyndzee and I decided that God had a different means for us to find our children. We began the arduous process of filling out the mounds of paperwork to become certified to adopt. Within a few short months we were officially certified and began the process of finding our child. It was an emotional rollercoaster to say the least, we felt in large measure like the nerdy kid trying to ask the prom queen on a date (been there, done that), we were considered by some but ultimately passed over. Through a series of miraculous events we were connected with a birth-mom that was interested in us. I can remember driving around downtown San Diego and receiving a call from the birth-mother indicating that she wanted to meet. In that moment I knew that we had found our child. Within a few short months we found ourselves in the hospital awaiting the arrival of our little boy. We were fortunate to be in the labor room when he was born. I can remember seeing him carefully placed on the warmer, dried and then measured. My heart immediately melted, all the struggles Lyndzee and I had experienced with infertility, with deciding how to proceed, with endless procedures, with everyone around us having child after child after child, quickly evaporated into the great expanse and my heart swelled to overflowing. We were now officially parents!
In the ensuing seven years since his birth, Jackson has shown us how little prepared we were for parenthood, but we have also discovered the unconditional love that comes for another person. My dream to become a physician has taken the three of us on an unexpected international journey, including northern England, the West Indie island of Grenada, the very foreign country of Brooklyn, NY, and finally Cheyenne, Wyoming. Though far from our original stomping ground in Arizona, we have discovered that location matters little as long as we are together, that is where our home is. I can distinctly remember running home from the Metro in South Gosforth, England, so anxious to see my little boy after a long day of studying, or spending hours on our "adventures" exploring the mysteries of Turtleback Drive in Lance-Aux-Epines, Grenada, or walking to visit members of our church with Jackson on my shoulders in the bleak winter months in Brooklyn, and now the chance to play catch with him in Cheyenne. These memories represent every reason I wanted to be a Dad in the first place. I find myself continually fulfilled in this sacred responsibility of raising Jackson.
Despite the incredible joy I feel with Jackson, I can not escape the desire to have more children. Lyndzee and I are finally in a place where we can pursue adoption again. We are now officially certified and anxious for more adventures with our children that are yet to be found.