A Birth Mother and an 80s Band
“He has made everything beautiful in its time” (Ecclesiastes 3:11a ESV).
Me with our oldest son’s birth mom Cindy at a recent book signing for Gideon’s Book, a story that honors birth mothers, calling them heroes.
The notification pinged, lighting up my phone—
Air Supply celebrates their 50th anniversary with their Airheads.
Indeed, this is the only time I appreciate being called an airhead because, yes, we’re part of their fan club!
Air Supply has been a favorite 80s band since—well, for about as long as I can remember. After all, their song “Lost In Love” was the first song Bill, my husband of thirty-six years, and I danced to. I was in the 6th grade, and Billy, an older man, was in 7th.
Since that day in 1982, we’ve loved them and…
Each other.
How wonderful when, a couple years ago, we learned Air Supply was going to be in concert near us. Bill booked us the best tickets, including a meet-and-greet prior to the show.
Along with several dozen others—though none as Airheaded as us—we listened to Graham Russell and Russell Hitchcock share about their friendship, including how they got their musical start.
In their lovely English and Australian accents, the pair took turns telling our gathering how they were preparing, in only several years, to celebrate their 50th anniversary.
“We began on May 12th,” one of them said. “And here we are, all these years later—still friends and bandmates. In this industry, what we have… well, it’s quite a miracle, if I do say so myself.”
May 12th, I thought. Interesting.
And my mind began to race, thinking how I might be able to share why that particular date was special to me—to my family—too.
Long story short, they later offered an opportunity for fans to ask questions or make comments. And, of course, we just had to tell them about how their song, “Lost In Love,” influenced our relationship.
“We’ll be playin’ that one, no doubt. Part of the set, ya know.” Russell Hitchcock smiled, then
Graham Russell added, “And when we do, be sure to come down, front and center like, and dance. We’ll be playin’ and a’singin’ right to ya.”
Bill and I looked at one another, smiles spanning ear to ear. It was too good to be true!
Graham Russell, me, Bill, and Russell Hitchcock in July 2023.
And after the duo disappeared backstage for a bit—you know, for a fifteenth change of clothes or something equally band-ish—they allowed for photographs and hugs.
It was our chance!
I’d scribbled down a bit of our story, determined to hand the piece of paper to one of them. And sure enough, before we parted ways again just prior to the concert—and after hugs—I slipped the note to Graham Russell.
“May 12th is special to us also,” I managed, and Bill added, “Be watching! We’ll be dancing to ‘Lost In Love’.”
And we did.
Dancing to “Lost In Love,” our first love song.
And the note?
It explained how, after years of waiting, God began to speak to my heart—using 5/12 in all sorts of unique ways to affirm His plan for Bill’s and my—yes, our—future family.
I’d awake to 5:12 on the digital clock.
I’d look up at a billboard with the date 5/12 written boldly in black.
I’d receive mail with May 12th in the heading.
Often, these numbers would be accompanied by a rainbow—
The sign of God’s promise.
It sounds strange and, honestly, it was. But that’s what happened, time after time over years.
In 1996, May 12th was Mother’s Day, and my heart was particularly broken. We’d been through rounds of infertility treatments but still, no child. I’d even undergone a more rigorous procedure with hopes I would finally conceive…
But no.
In late May that year, the Lord prompted me to read Genesis 18—the story of Abraham and the three visitors. Sarah and Abraham showed them hospitality and one of the guests asked, “Where is Sarah your wife?”
Abraham replied, “In the tent.”
And the guest said, “About this time next year, she will give you a son.”
Of course, Sarah was an old woman, and so she laughed at the thought of giving birth to a child, but the guest (who was actually God) responded, “Is anything too hard for the Lord? At the appointed time next year, I will return to you, and Sarah will give you a son” (paraphrase of Genesis 18:1-15).
When I read this passage, I asked the Lord, “Are you saying that, by this time next year, I’ll give Bill a son?”
And He spoke to my heart, “By this time next year—by May 12th—you’ll have a child.”
How my heart leaped!
We were preparing to move from Lexington, KY where Bill had finished medical school to Greenville, SC where he was to be a resident. I had accepted a 3rd grade teaching position, and we’d purchased our first house.
Once moved in, the Lord further spoke to my heart, using Psalm 113:9 to bring more confirmation of His plan—
He settles the barren woman in her home, making her a happy mother of children.
I simply couldn’t believe it! How good God had been to speak so specifically, confirming that I would indeed be a mother!
But…
May 12, 1997 came and went, and there was no child, nor was I pregnant.
“What do you think God meant?” a dear friend asked. She knew my story, and it was understandable that she might question His meaning.
“All I know is He spoke to my heart. I may never know, this side of heaven, what He meant, but I know what I heard. And I trust Him.”
But honestly, I struggled, too. What had God meant?
Bill and I decided to wait out the rest of 1997 before doing anything else. I didn’t want to undergo further infertility treatments, and we’d decided, if a child didn’t come naturally, we would begin pursuing adoption in early 1998.
Christmas came and went, then New Years.
On Friday, January 2nd, 1998, I met with a woman named Carri Uram in her office. She ran an adoption ministry called The Special Link. In our time together, she shared a bit of her story and allowed me to share much of mine. Before we parted ways, she gave me clear guidelines on how to proceed—what to do to get the “adoption” ball rolling, so to speak.
Bill and I got busy writing prospective birth mother letters and assembling portfolios for adoption attorneys and agencies.
Only a couple weeks after that initial meeting, we received a call from Carri.
“I’ve spoken with a birth mom, a young college freshman named Cindy. She’s carrying a biracial baby boy, and she’s due…” There was a pause, then a deep breath. “She’s due in early February.”
“What?” I could hardly believe it. “And… and she wants to meet…” I choked out the final word. “Us?”
She did.
We met Cindy in an attorney’s office only several days later, just as the South Carolina sun was setting over Columbia. She wore a baggy T-shirt, but I could see—beneath it, there was a baby bump.
“I planned on parenting, thought I could do it,” this shy 19-year-old shared. “But… well, I don’t have the support I need and I…” Her gaze shifted from me to her hands which were folded in her lap. “I plan on finishin’ school. I wanna be a lawyer and…” Again, she paused, then swallowed. “I just know I can’t do all that and be a… a good mom.”
I know some say one can’t experience love at first sight, but I know I fell in love with that girl before we said goodbye only hours later. And we fell in love with the baby she carried.
Our son, Ian, still in Cindy’s womb.
Having signed the initial legal papers, I was invited to go with her to her final OB visit. After, we had lunch, and Cindy shared more of her story, even giving me a stuffed bear and a photograph of her child’s birth father. “I’d like him to know…” Cindy’s voice broke. “Well, that he was loved.”
Together, we cried—both happy and sad tears. (Sometimes there’s such a fine line.)
Before we parted ways, I told Cindy about how God had confirmed His plan—even telling her specifics regarding the May 12th date.
Her eyes grew wide. “May 12th.” She fell silent for a moment, then placed her hands on her swollen middle. “That’s… that’s when I conceived.”
And I knew.
God truly did mean what He’d said.
“By this time next year, Sarah will give you a son.”
Only, I wasn’t Sarah giving Bill a son. In truth, Bill and I were given a son by a girl named Cindy. Cindy Abrams—the young woman who chose life for her baby, then gave him to us, our Dorian Samual.
Yes, the gracious Gift of God for whom we prayed.
And what do an 80s band and a birth mother have in common?
May 12th—a day of beginnings…
Indeed, a day of miracles!
Both her mothers’ love—shortly after Dorian “Ian” Samuel’s birth on 2/3/98.
Gideon’s Book is now available on Amazon!
