So, Jake had been gone a couple of weeks, and we were really, really, REALLY ready for a new little one. Obviously, we didn't want something bad to happen to a child, but if one had to come into care, we wanted him or her to come to us. (I was voting for a "her" since I've had a strong need to buy dresses, and they just weren't Jake's thing.) Since we were just kind of hanging around, I volunteered to bake multiple dozens of cookies for a church function, and that's what sealed our fate.
On Friday, June 13, C.C. sent me a text (our preferred method of baby alert notification) and the rest of the day was shot to hell for me. I was in the middle of leaving a voice mail for some poor woman, and I doubt I made any sense at all. I sincerely apologize to anyone who had to talk to me that day.
C.C. picked Miss Josie up from the hospital, five days old. For the vital stats, she was 6 pounds, 14 ounces and 19.5 inches long. She's absolutely beautiful, and I've been buying dresses ever since--thank goodness for the clothing allowance they get! We had to get used to a little one again, and actually, neither of us has spent any significant amount of time with a baby THAT young before, but we were doing pretty well--still working, lots of WONDERFUL volunteer sitters until she's old enough for daycare--routine was re-established, life was--fairly--calm.
We figure she'll go to family sometime in the next couple of months, and we've talked about how empty the house will be again. Abstractly, we discussed if we should say yes if they call about a "permanent" placement--aka an "adoptable" baby (Which by the way is ALWAYS a maybe, I don't count on it until I'm signing papers). Well, God has a funny sense of humor, and plans for us, because...
