And earth has nothing I desire besides you.

(for privacy can't use his photo)

The subject line read, "Adoptive placement needed for legally free child: Mark M."

I nearly fell out of my chair when the email came through from our caseworker. I was teaching class. 7th period - my rowdiest bunch - on a Friday afternoon. Shawn was on business in Denver. We had just been formally approved to adopt a week prior. And yet here it was, our first potential match with a child.

The email came with a 2-page summary and a photograph. Just one photo, of an 8-year-old Hispanic boy holding a football that was bigger than his head. A bit too skinny to be a Threadgill/Mahan, Mark had a smile from ear to ear, skinny arms, a little jersey shirt on, and that giant football. My mom said he was "smiling with his eyes," and I agreed that it seemed he has the joy in his face that a child should, despite what he must have been through.

Shawn and I, in different states, scoured the information they sent on Mark. Intelligent, active and sporty, capable of caring and loving. Argumentative, challenging, defiant, dishonest. Swears like a sailor, wets the bed. No developmental, medical or physical special needs - only emotional. True to her word, our caseworker had sent us a child that matched our specifications exactly.

In a hasty phone conversation, both at work, Shawn and I agreed to submit our home study for consideration to be Mark's adoptive parents. Now we too are subject to the selection process.

Five days later, at dinner on her birthday, we told Shawn's mother about the possibility of Mark. Always supportive of us as a couple and in our adoption journey, Nancy was so excited to hear about Mark and to see his one precious photo. That night after we took Nancy home, she passed away in her sleep.

As I grow a bit older and more familiar with loss, I have seen how the youngest generation can bring joy and breathe new life into a family. Part of my adoption decision was based on the desire to keep our family going, to give back some of what the older generation gave to us, to keep moving forward. We don't know - and won't for some time - whether Mark will be the boy to experience this with us. Regardless, he represents to me that hope for our family and the future. Our child will know how special his grandmother was, and how open her heart was to him, sight unseen.

Hurry up and wait

I'm not sure which is scarier, the waiting, or getting in!

Well, we did it! As of Thursday, December 1st, 2011, we are approved to adopt. The long, harrowing process is complete. We had a last minute hiccup in that our submitted floor plan of the house was not quite sufficient - I scrambled to get it redone to the specifications of the state - and with the help of Abby and Shawn, made it happen without any delay.

What does this mean? More waiting, really. But I find comfort in these small milestones. What happens now is our caseworker at the agency can send out our file when she gets notification of a child or children that match what we said we wanted for our family. The caseworker will receive flash notifications from the state, probably a couple of times a week. The list could contain 1 kid or 10. She looks at the basic information and if it's a good match for us, she submits our file to the caseworker for that child. Once our name's in that hat, there could be 2 or 20 other prospective parents interested in the child. The caseworker on the child's side narrows it down to 3 parents or couples, like finalists. Then she delves deeper into the parent files until she can make a choice about who would be best to parent that child.

During this time, we watch email. Like every hour of every business day. If our caseworker sees a kid or kids on the list that we might match with, she emails us to ask before she submits our file to the caseworker for the child. But you have to catch that email, because there's a window for submission that closes like a day later. So, like, no pressure, but um, if you don't get the email, you can't be submitted for that kid at all.

It feels both great and terrifying to be at this stage. All the time the prospect of adding to our family pops in and out of our conversations. Shawn told me this week he's been practicing saying, "Listen to your mother," a habit he is definitely going to need to solidify in time!