The 5th of July

While most folks celebrate the 4th of July, it’s the 5th when I remember having a dream come true.

Many years ago, when my heart drove me to explore various places around the world where I might find “my baby Maria,” I knew it wasn’t going to be a simple journey.  As a single parent, my options were limited in where I could adopt a baby girl.  Mexico appeared to be an easy possibility, notwithstanding all the red tape, reference letters and endless forms needed to apply.  Several months later, I got a call saying the program had closed for no apparent reason, and they wished me the best of luck.

I then learned Honduras offered an adoption program, and I even had a chance to communicate with another Mom who successfully added a daughter to her family.  While having a little baby girl was my wish, when I received a photo and description of a one- year-old, I accepted that she was the one chosen for me. That was until I received a letter apologizing for the agency’s mistake of giving this girl to someone else, and sorry to say, there were no more children available in the foreseeable future.

A co-worker once called me tenacious. It may have been this never-give-up attitude or very strong belief there was a plan for me, that kept me going.  Paraguay popped up in my research with an adoption office in rural Minnesota.  After completing a third set of paperwork and non-stop praying, I hoped this would be my destination. A photo and description of a beautiful three-month old baby girl, whose birthmother’s name was Maria, felt like a sign from above.  The following Christmas Day, I found myself in Paraguay, where following a knock on my hotel door, my Maria appeared.

On July 5th I will celebrate the day 35 years ago when this adoption was finalized, and Maria officially became my daughter.  Every ounce of effort was rewarded, and I’ll always give thanks for all who helped make my dream come true.