Today is my son’s birthday. On the day he was born, 13 years ago, I didn’t even know he existed. On July 4th, the day after he was born, my husband and I went to a party at a dear friend’s home. I spent the day playing with their children, who I absolutely loved. Yet I felt the familiar sadness of wondering where my child was. Would I ever be a mom?

On July 5th, I finished leading a meeting at 2 pm and answered an unexpected call from our adoption case worker. A baby boy had been born two days before. His birth parents had selected us to be his forever mom and dad. They hadn’t signed the final paperwork yet, but were planning to in the next hour. She told me to hold tight and she’d call me back.

Talk about the longest hour OF MY LIFE! I didn’t want to get too excited. I’d had my hopes up more times that I could count, and it always ended in disappointment or sadness.

Finally the call came. I answered the phone and heard her say “Congratulations, you have a son!” My heart could hardly handle this good news. It seemed unreal. She wanted us to leave right then, and pick him up that night. I paced around the house. I wandered into my closet to pack and thought “what do you pack to pick up your baby!?” We borrowed a car seat. We looked up directions for the 7 hour drive. It all felt like a dream. On the way there, we read a book about how to care for a newborn - how’s that for last minute cramming?

Around 1 am on July 6, we made it to the hospital. The adoption case worker presented us with a stack of papers to sign before we could see our baby. I have no idea what they said, but I signed them in record time. She left the room and came back, wheeling in a cradle from the nursery with a baby. Our baby. My baby. In that moment, every hurt, every fear, every worry about never becoming a mom just disappeared. My baby was here. He was mine forever and ever.

I was overwhelmed with love for his birth parents and their families. I couldn’t and still can’t imagine how they felt on that day. My greatest joy was probably the hardest day of their lives. I think of them every day, and send up silent prayers of thanks that I hope reach their hearts.

This is my miracle. I’ve been living it for 13 years. You never know when a miracle is brewing. Whatever hurt or fear or heartbreak you’re having today could be your miracle tomorrow. Hang on.