An eighteen year old girl that had been through a lot in her life already considered giving her baby up for adoption before she gave birth, but decided to keep her. For the first few weeks everything was going well, but in the last week or so, some poor decisions had been made on behalf of the baby. Child Protective Services had been called in to investigate the situation.

That has to be one of the scariest sentences in the world for a parent.

The Deane’s had taken in a couple of older foster girls, ones that were nearly done with high school. Things didn’t work out with the girls as Timari had hoped, but she did get to know some of the Social Workers through the process and had met several of the girls’ friends. On Tuesday, August 18th a Social Worker that knew Timari Deane had gone to investigate a call of neglect and to remove an 11 week old little girl from the situation until a hearing could determine the baby’s fate the following Monday. A friend of Timari’s foster care girls placed a call to the only person she knew that could keep her baby until an adoptive family could be found. This eighteen year old single mom called Timari Deane and asked if she could get to her house immediately and beg for the Social Workers to allow this baby to go to the Deane’s until an adoptive family could be found.

When Timari arrived, Child Protective Services was waiting in the driveway. The Social Worker remembered Timari, and bent the rules and allowed the baby to go home to the Deane’s until the hearing on Monday. They had five days to find an adoptive home for this baby girl, or she would be placed in the protection of the state in foster care.

We set up a time to meet the birth mom a few hours after we met and held the baby for the first time. We made some calls, set up an appointment with an adoption attorney and an adoption agency (one call covered both, the lawyer is married to the adoption agent) for the next morning, and headed to the meeting place. Starbucks, my homefield. As we were gazing into each others eyes at a stoplight marveling at God’s handiwork, our car was slammed into from behind by a teenage boy driving his mom’s minivan with his driver’s permit. I can’t print what I yelled at him. Just kidding – I simply informed him that ramming into someone from behind that had been sitting at a stoplight for over five seconds does not bode well for your future insurance rates.

We were late for our appointment. Thankfully, so was she. I nervously asked if she wanted anything from Starbucks since I was about to order a drink with enough caffeine to paralyze a rhino. We all sat and chatted about her giving us her baby. Forever. We told her bits and pieces of our story. I tried to make her smile with some dry humor. The gravity and tension of the situation was tangible. She asked us a few question that we did our best to answer honestly.

We didn’t just want to give answers that we knew she would want to hear. We shared our true hearts with her and prayed that God would give her peace about us. She shared some of her story, and we realized that she had truly experienced things that no child should have to go through. Feeling unloved and rejected. Wishing she had been given up for adoption rather than have her upbringing. We all felt the irony of that statement, and Angela gently said, “It’s amazing that you want to give your daughter something that you never had.”

She looked at us and said she wanted us to raise her baby.

We got in our damaged car and floated home.

We met with our adoption attorney the next day in Dearborn, searching in vain for his office for ten minutes when we were already a few minutes late. His name was Herb and he had a white beard and wore madras shorts. We filled him in on the situation and quickly realized that he was truly an expert in the adoption field. He suggested a power of attorney for Timari granting her decision making power on behalf of the baby until we could complete the adoption approval process. Herb stepped out to talk to his Adoption Agent wife, Kristine, and I seized the opportunity to read his plaques that were decorating his walls. “Sweet mercy babe! Herb was the President of the Association of Adoption Attorneys for a few years!”

We were in good hands.

Woodside Bible Church was in the middle of a series called “Becoming Generous” in which we were being challenged to give sacrificially to help others in our church and in our community. A church wide garage sale with all proceeds going to Detroit non-profits was a huge part of this campaign, and Timari was in charge of this massive effort. Take the stuff at your last garage sale and multiply it by 1,000 and you’ll get the scope of this project. She couldn’t possibly have this little baby girl around the clock and run the garage sale. So Angela volunteered to watch the baby from 9am to 10pm everyday. Gladly. The bonding process began immediately. I joked that it was like we were dating her. At a Christian college. We picked her up first thing in the morning, were inseparable all day, then said tearful goodbyes late at night. Repeat.

We had a checklist a mile long to complete before our adoption home study would be completed. Background checks, physicals, personal references, financial statements, tax records, and a housing floor plan. Then the home study. We cleaned all day long, not wanting a stray cobweb or dirty dish or chirping fire alarm to cost us a lifetime of memories and love. The agent sat down on our couch and asked us questions for 95 minutes and looked around our house for less than 5. We were asked about our parents, philosophy of parenting, strengths and weaknesses of each other, and about 27 other personal and piercing questions.

Then we waited for the results of the home study while still hanging out with the baby during the day. Except Labor Day weekend. The Deane’s went out of town for the extended weekend. That was when I saw how much we loved this little baby. Ange was constantly thinking about her, and asking me about her. I was also daydreaming about our sweet little smiley baby, even while sitting in Row 11 at the Michigan / Western Michigan game (a bright spot this year for Michigan).