Bell Bridge Books

“I Got a Happy Meal and Mommy Got a Baby”

By Deb Stover

Following the birth of our daughter, Barbi, in 1981, my obstetrician said another pregnancy was “paramount to a death wish.” So we spoiled her for four years, then started looking into adoption.

After completing a workshop on special needs adoption and our Home Study, we went on a waiting list as not only potential, but eager, adoptive parents. A mere 3 months later, the phone rang to inform us that a newborn girl with Down Syndrome needed us.

We lived near Tulsa at the time, and Bonnie was born in Oklahoma City. We stayed in constant contact with the agency. Not only was she born with Down Syndrome, but she also had a heart defect. The only test that had been done was a simple EKG. Our medical insurance would cover Bonnie immediately, so I made appointments with a pediatric cardiologist and our pediatrician before we even brought her home.

Finally, the day arrived. The social worker suggested we meet somewhere between Oklahoma City and Tulsa. Dave took the day off and the three of us drove to the appointed rendezvous point.

McDonald’s!

Bonnie only weighed four pounds, fourteen ounces. She was all blanket and  hair and beauty. People stared at us as we exchanged baby and paperwork. I have to admit now, it must have appeared rather clandestine, but nothing could have been more right or more good.

The next morning, when I took 4 1/2-year-old Barbi to Noah’s Ark Preschool, she marched in the door and proudly announced to the room, “We went to McDonald’s. I got a Happy Meal and Mommy got a baby.”

The teachers and other parents stared with mouths agape as I stepped in holding our tiny Bonnie. All I could do was laugh, because Barbi had simply told the truth. After a few happy explanations, we made our trip to the cardiologist, where we learned that Bonnie’s condition wasn’t as serious as originally feared. While she did require surgery at eighteen months, she now has a normal–and very loving–heart.

Since that day in 1986, we went through another so-called “special needs” adoption of our son, Ben. As far as we’re concerned, the only special needs were ours, and our children have fulfilled them and then some.

Bonnie’s special all right, but not because of that extra number twenty-one chromosome. She’s special because she’s Bonnie. Her dad often said she was born missing the mean gene. He was right….

My husband is no longer with us, but every Mother’s Day I am surrounded by the love of our children, and blessed with the knowledge that each of them has his love and goodness to carry them through life.

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Maid Marian and the Lawman (Bell Bridge Books) tells the tale of a band of misfits who—much like Deb’s own family—discovers the joy of unconditional love and acceptance.

After declaring her candidacy for President at age four, Deb Stover veered off course to play Lois Lane for a number of years. After she refused to blow Clark Kent’s cover, she turned her attention to her own Real American Hero and married him. Considering her experience with Heroes, redirecting her passion for writing toward Romance Novels seemed a natural progression. For more information, please visit www.debstover.com

“Our Hero”

by Deb Stover

I often tell people it’s no wonder I grew up to write romance novels because I believe in heroes.  I was raised by one, and I married one.

Like most nineteen-year-olds, I thought I knew everything.  In 1976, while still living at home with my parents, working full-time and trying to go to school part-time, a good friend insisted on introducing me to someone her fiancé worked with at McConnell Air Force Base.  It would be a double date–a blind date.  Oh, goodie.  I was young, but not stupid.  By nineteen, I’d suffered through a few blind dates.

To make matters worse, it was my date’s twenty-first birthday.  A young Airmen newly assigned to McConnell, he hadn’t met many people, so he would celebrate his birthday with us.  And how did we celebrate in 1976?  By seeing Young Frankenstein, of course.

Dave Stover was tall, muscular, blond, blue-eyed, and extremely good-looking.  In fact, he bore a remarkable resemblance to the young actor who played the role of Rolfe in The Sound of Music.  After a few weeks when I introduced him to my mother, I asked her what she thought.  She sighed and said, “I think he’s a walking, living, breathing doll.”

And so he was….

We had a whirlwind courtship.  There’s no other way to describe it.  We met in April, became engaged in May, and married in August.  Many said it wouldn’t last.  After all, we were so young.  We barely knew each other.

But we knew….

On August 6th, 1976, I married my Prince Charming.  Our first year of marriage wasn’t easy, as I became ill with serious blood clots in my leg that traveled to my lung just before our first anniversary.  It was frightening, but we grew closer as we dealt with our trials.

When we started trying to have a family, we discovered my clotting problem was genetic, and that pregnancy complicated it. In fact, it was life threatening.  I had to give myself injections every six hours throughout my pregnancies.  Our twin daughters were born prematurely in 1980 and died shortly after their birth.

One month later, my mother-in-law died from cancer.  It was a very bad time, but every day brought us closer; every trial made us stronger.

In December 1981, we were blessed with our beautiful, full-term baby girl, Barbi.  It would be my last pregnancy, as my obstetrician told us another attempt was “paramount to a death wish.”

We dedicated our lives to each other, and to spoiling our daughter.  After four years, we looked into adoption, and took a workshop on special needs adoption.  Three months later, we brought home Bonnie–a newborn with Down Syndrome and congenital heart disease.  She’s now twenty-four and pure sunshine mixed with Missouri Mule.

Three years later, when I suggested we consider a multi-racial child, Dave didn’t even hesitate.  So we brought home our son, Benjamin, who is too good looking for my good.  The girls follow him everywhere.

As I worked to publish my first novel, and raised our children, Dave worked at his career, completed his MBA, and we were forced to move around the country more than once.  But he always supported my efforts, never suggested I stop trying to sell that first book, or ceased to be our children’s greatest inspiration in all their endeavors.

In December 1999, the day before our oldest child’s eighteenth birthday, Dave was diagnosed with Stage III colon cancer.  The next year was an endless stream of radiation, chemotherapy, surgeries, and stress.  Finally, he was pronounced “in remission.”

In the spring of 2001, still in remission, he accepted a promising position in Oregon.  Filled with anticipation, we moved halfway across the country for a new beginning.  Cancer free, a new career, a new home, a new life.  I was contracted for my 12th novel, our oldest child was on the high dean’s list in college, and our younger two were doing well in school.

When Dave’s cancer came out of remission in 2004, he had just returned from a trip with the United States Air Force Reserve.  He fought his cancer with the courage and love he did everything else in his life, and he did it for us.

When, after months of treatments, it became clear his cancer was terminal, we planned the family’s return to Colorado together.  He asked me to take his ashes home to Colorado with his family.

The hardest thing I’ve ever done was to hold my hero’s hand and let him go.  I promised him I would take care of his family, and of myself.  Because, being the hero he was, he would not let go, not matter how much pain he was in, until he was sure I would be okay.

David Allen Stover: Hero, Husband, Father, Friend…

April 21, 1955 — May 14, 2005

We love you always.

Deb’s Bio: Once upon a time Deb Stover wanted to be Lois Lane until she discovered Clark Kent is a fraud and there is no Superman. Since publication of Shades of Rose in 1995, Stover has received dozens of awards for her cross-genre fiction. For more information, please visit www.debstover.com.