Five Years Ago Today – familiar places and faces. We come home.

On our way home … Part Four

Five Years Ago Today … an Abby’s Road anniversary

 what the hell are you

            October 11, 2009. A train ride from Washington to Chicago to St. Louis … breakfasting with British cousins and putting up with the Australian Octomom and Captain Dig Me. Then finally … finally ….

            Starting at page 176:

            “Fond and familiar cities rumbled past: Springfield, Alton

            By six that evening we pulled into the St. Louis station.  My father was there to meet us.

            Two days before, late that frantic Friday afternoon, we called him to give him the news.  “So you’ll be home Sunday night,” was the first thing he said.             

            “How did you know that?”

            “Your sister called me. She saw it on the computer.” He volunteered his time working for the city clerk, and the clerk and his secretary kept a Facebook watch to give Dad all the news.

            And now here is my father waiting for us at the station. I have never been happier to see his face in my adult life.

            “Hi, Dad.”

            “Did you have a nice trip?  Where’s that bad mandolin music coming from?”

            “I’d rather not talk about it. I’d like to introduce you to your new granddaughter.”


            He said he finally has a brown-haired brown-eyed girl; he has always wanted a brown-haired brown-eyed girl.

            He drove our car to the train station.  We had a baby seat installed for free that summer by the fire department during one of those baby-seat safety seminars they give a few times a year. When we got south of Mascoutah, Abigail cried. Esther asked us to pull over so she could feed the baby – Dad and I rode in front.

            We told her to take her out of the seat and feed her.

            “We’re not supposed to do that.”

            “No jury in the world will convict us. All we need is one mother on it…” It’s good to be a lawyer again.

            We went to my sister’s house in Coulterville. She took plenty of pictures and plenty of children looked at their new cousin. My sister held Abigail the entire time.



            We found out later that she was pregnant at that time – she just found out – but kept quiet for a few months to let Abigail be the only baby for a while.

            The plan was to stay in Coulterville at Dad’s house overnight. But we wanted to go home. We’ve wanted to go home for the past 23 days. Now that we were an hour away only extreme fatigue would stop us.

            We said our goodbyes, loaded up on caffeine at the convenience store and headed home.

            Our other babies, the cats, stayed in the basement this entire time. Relax, our basement was bigger than my first apartment. We asked our house-sitter to let them up from their basement home the day before.

            When I walked in with our luggage, two of them sat by the dining room table and watched who came in. I called their names. When Warlock saw me, he stalked toward me. I petted his head as Esther came in with the baby.

            By the time I moved the car to the garage and came back inside; Esther sat on the floor as the cats rubbed against her and the baby seat. Warlock sniffed at Abigail. Abigail stared back. I snapped a quick photo. The caption: “What the hell are you,” each asked the other.



“Abby’s Road, the Long and Winding Road to Adoption and how Facebook, Aquaman and Theodore Roosevelt Helped” leads a couple through their days of infertility treatments and adoption. It is told with gentle (and sometimes not-so-gentle) humor from the perspective of a nerdy father and his loving and understanding wife.

Join Mike and Esther as they go through IUIs and IFVs, as they search for an adoption agency, are selected by a birth mother, prepare their house, prepare their family, prepare themselves and wait for their daughter to be born a thousand miles from home.

Abby’s Road is available at Amazon here:

at Barnes and Noble here:

and at Smashwords here:


Copyright 2014 Michael Curry



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