But for the past 10 years, that vision eluded them. Married in their mid-30s, the couple had difficulties bearing a child.

Infertility treatments resulted in eight pregnancies, followed by eight heartaches from miscarriages. After carrying twin boys for 23 weeks and losing them, the Ihlenburgs gave up.

They turned to adoption, inquiring about Chinese and Russian children. But the process was long and expensive.

When their neighbors introduced them to two girls they had adopted through the foster care system, their hopes soared once again.

They filled out the paperwork, completed fingerprint and criminal background checks, and invited a social worker to visit their Durham home.

After so many false starts, it seemed their quest for a family might finally be realized. Like Mary and Joseph on that first Christmas, who overcame hardship as they trekked to Bethlehem to be counted in a census while Mary was due to give birth to Jesus, the Ihlenburgs wanted nothing more than to gather as a family -- mother, father and child.

Rhonda, now 43, and Andy, 44, prayed fervently for God to intervene.

But their journey was only beginning.

In July 2005, Rhonda came down with strep throat. She was so sick she needed to be hospitalized. Her voice was gone and so was her ability to communicate with the private adoption agency she was talking to almost daily.

Rhonda had always dreamed of having a happy, loving family.

"I was the little girl with the doll playing mommy," she said.

In her relationship with Andy, she took the lead when it came to having a baby. She did the research, made the inquiries and renewed Andy's hope when he had all but given up.

Lying in a hospital bed on Aug. 1, she got a call from a social worker, a friend of a friend, who told her a woman in Asheville had surrendered a newborn at a fire station a few days earlier. The boy was healthy and would be available through another adoption agency.

One little thing

There was just one potential issue: the boy was biracial. His mother was black; his father, white.

Rhonda Ihlenburg didn't skip a beat. Yes, she said. Yes, she'd take him. "I would have a taken a polka-dotted child, I wanted a child so badly," she said later.

Since the Ihlenburgs didn't have the money to adopt the boy immediately, they took him in as foster parents, thinking that once they saved enough money, they would adopt him outright.

Andy enrolled in a "boot camp for new dads" at WakeMed, where he learned to how to hold babies and change diapers.

Two weeks later, the Ihlenburgs arranged to pick up the baby from the adoption agency. The designated meeting point was the Burger King parking lot on Poole Road in Raleigh.

At their church, Bethesda Baptist in Durham, people joked that the baby was the best takeout they ever got at Burger King. Some called him "Whopper Jr."

He was a beautiful boy with big brown eyes; the Ihlenburgs named him Joseph.

It seemed as if their life's longing had been fulfilled.

Last year at Christmas, they were joyous. The three traveled to Michigan to visit Andy's family, and to Virginia to visit Rhonda's. Joseph, then 6 months old, liked nothing better than to rip wrapping paper off his many gifts. The family of Rhonda's dreams was almost coming true.

Almost.

A complication

In August, Andy's ear and throat became sore. He went to a specialist expecting to come home with a prescription for an antibiotic. Instead, he came home with a devastating diagnosis: throat cancer.

Next page >