For quite some time I have imagined what it would be like to have a child. As I read books or watch television I ponder how I would explain the world to my son; when I visit places I think about the wonder in his eyes for seeing something for the first time. I anticipate sharing my passions for history, travel, photography, food, and learning. I look forward to watching him play sports; participate in Boy Scouts and helping with homework. My greatest excitement comes when I think about playing with him; I want to build models of planes, trains, and automobiles; I want to build creativity with Legos; I want to finish jigsaw puzzles; I want to play basketball in the driveway. I want to do all the things my father never did with me. I am hoping that I will be a good father because of the emotionally absent father I grew up with.

There is something primal about becoming a father. Research shows that dads in early human species aided in children’s bathing, feeding, playing and teaching them the lessons of prehistoric life. I am developing this prehistoric biological sense of family. My mind is already beginning to bond with a baby that not only isn’t born yet, but is not even genetically mine. My inner caveman is walking around with his club looking for threats against my family while trying to figure out how to provide for them. Mentally I am preparing to be the person who will do anything for his family to survive and thrive. My inner caveman will kill, steal and deceive. I am looking forward to bathing, feeding, playing and teaching my boy. While I realize that there are many fathers who do not take their responsibilities seriously, for me it feels like a pre-programed genetic response.

Underneath this calm exterior my mind is racing. Mostly I am trying to think about all the things that need to get done at home and at work before the baby arrives. I just hope that I don’t forget anything. Twenty, even ten years ago, I would have been a bundle of nerves and my panic attacks would have been frequent and intense. I had a panic attack last week when I went to the Texas State Fair – it was sensory overload, but I was able to keep it together. Since then I have been able to be relatively calm.

I love buying t-shirts from everywhere I go. At the fair, I bought a Dallas Police Mounted Unit t-shirt for myself and then noticed they had child sizes too. I debated with myself as to whether I should buy one for our son. I felt like if I bought a shirt, I’d jinx the whole thing. I gave in and bought a shirt for him as well. I don’t know anything about sizes so I asked for the smallest one they had. It turns out, he will be three years old before he can wear it.

Last night I bought a firefighter one piece jumper. Again, a small fear crept into my head but I went ahead anyway. We have been looking at strollers and a few other times online. I am still trying to figure out the best way to fly with a newborn and where to stay and what we will need in the hotel.

Last week we lost out on two opportunities to adopt a baby. Both birth mothers decided on other families. We understood the first one but the second one left us a little confused because we really felt like that was “the one” for us. He was of mixed-race and we thought the birth mother would be attracted to our colorful family. The baby was born with club feet and would need long-term medical attention to correct the issue. Somehow, for me this imperfection made the baby perfect partly because I see myself as an imperfect human.

We were disappointed at this but not devastated because it seemed like our profile had been getting a lot of traction lately. I was becoming convinced that it was just a matter of time before we would have a child of our own. Within that same week, our social worker contacted us about yet another possible match.

A 37 year old woman will be giving birth to a boy in Dallas, TX around Thanksgiving. Although the expense of this particular adoption is out of our budget, we agreed to be considered. After three years of looking, I was not about to let money stop me and I also assumed that based on our previous track record, we would not be selected so the money would be a moot point. Ironically, I was planning on being in Dallas this week for business. I was not sure if God was trying to tell me something or not.

I have never told anyone at work or any of our friends about any of the opportunities that have come our way. There was a certain excitement about this particular one that I was not able to contain. My boss has adopted two girls and understands the struggles. He and I have talked frequently about my frustrations. He was the first one I told. I said to him, “There is a pregnant woman in Dallas” and he immediately thought that the woman we hired two weeks ago in our Dallas office is pregnant. I had to quickly explain at which point he was relieved and excited. I also told my coworker about the situation.

By Friday morning we still had not heard anything and we were starting to get anxious. I emailed Kansas City and my social worker said that we would not hear anything until this week. Over the weekend, I tried to put it out of my mind because it was no different than any of the other times we had been disappointed. On Sunday, I packed up my suitcase and flew to Dallas with a strange feeling. I was going to a city that had the potential of changing my life forever.

We received notification that we have been matched with a birth mother on Monday. Because I was already in Dallas, I met the birth mother for dinner and things went really well. About as well as you can expect when two strangers meet for the first time for something as intimate as a baby. I felt like we really connected and had a lot in common. Now it is just a matter of waiting for the baby to arrive!