We arrived at the hospital in Texarkana around 4:30 a.m. Sunday morning after driving straight through from Charlottesville. We should have been exhausted, seeing as how we hadn’t really slept in three days. But tired was the last thing we were feeling as we walked into the hospital. It was still dark out and there were no staff at the reception desk. We found the sign for the maternity ward and followed it. My heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. We were about to meet our little boy!
Thankfully, the maternity nurse was expecting us and let us in without issue. We went straight to our birthmother’s room, knocked and heard a soft, gentle, “come in.” We opened the door to see her holding Miles, clearly happy and relieved that we were there. “Thank you for coming,” she said. I knew from texting her that she was nervous that we weren’t going to show up. I told her there was no chance of that. None whatsoever. I’m not sure she believed me until she saw our faces, though. She smiled and handed us our son.












