It's been almost a week. I'm still processing, still crazed, and imagining that not many of you are still with me, since I know you were only hanging out waiting to find out if I had gotten THE CALL. Really, me too. Still, I haven't told the story, and while I don't know how to tell it profoundly, I ought to tell it before too much time has passed.
If you are an avid reader of New Flower, then you know that my first blossom stuck his teeth through his top lip last Sunday night (not Easter). That Thursday, we went to his pediatrician for a recheck. As I was signing in, reading again and contemplating (though not taking all that seriously) the sign that says "Cell phones for emergency use only, please," my cell phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, so I squeezed the sides to silence the ringer. But what if it was the ADOPTION AGENCY and I had silenced them? Yet what if I got my HOPES UP for NOTHING like every time an unidentified call came? Isn't it better not to hope every blessed time the phone rings? But what if THE CALL went to voice mail?!
In that endless moment, I also remembered that on Wednesday (the night before) I had had a good feeling about Thursday. But I had figured the good feeling wasn't for me. I may be semi-psychic, but I'm no optimist.
I answered it. It was THE CALL. "Is this a good time?" "Okay." "We have a little girl I want to tell you about." "She's my daughter." "Listen," she said, "You don't have to remember everything, you don't have to take notes . . ." I started crying.
At the end of our conversation, everyone in the waiting room knew I was crazy (fortunately this time for a different reason than the people in the ER waiting room, though when you combine the two I'm getting quite a reputation, despite being an anonymous woman). I paged dh, using our long-ago devised and only-once used (why, just last Sunday!) emergency code. He called back in a panic. "It's a girl," I said, unable to think of anything clever. Unable to think. How I wish I had planned ahead - something brilliant to say. But I probably would have forgotten it.
I couldn't stop crying.
And that is how everyone who works at the pediatricians' office learned we have a daughter.
Oh, and then I seriously debated whether "You have a grandaughter" qualified as an "emergency" call. I decided that it did.
PS Ds's lip looks great. It's healing beautifully.