Four years! Our amazing sons have been home for FOUR YEARS! I still look at our sons with awe and amazement. . . these little ones are OURS to raise, OURS to enjoy, OURS for a lifetime! The miracle happened, we became parents. Just gazing at them can bring tears to my eyes. I'm rather attached to them, I do believe.
Four years. . . four years ago we thought Aquaman was retarded. He had 7 words. Today he says things like, "Mom, how does the piston work exactly? Which lever do you use and how does it connect to the piston?" or "I really don't think Superman and Batman know each other because they're just pretend. They are not real, it's costumes." We haven't had a pediatric neurologist appointment in 3 1/2 years. His brain works so fast he can't slow down!
Four years. . . four years ago Spidey wouldn't smile for us and was a year behind in almost every area (including the playground skills!). Today he grins at me and says, "I'm glad you're my mom" or giggles with his brother over the word toilet. Today he's amazing at sports and reads above grade level. He's so busy joking around he doesn't take time to do his work!
Four years. . . four years getting to know these amazing little boys who constantly amaze me. Four years of tucking them in, asking how their day was, feeding them, training them and playing with them. Four years of measuring them against their height the very first day they came home.
Obviously, it's a special day for us.
And I found out today that we're not out of the running for another kidlet who just reminds us of our boys. Yes, he looks like them. Yes, he has some of the same issues they had/have, but it's more the spark and our gut reaction to his picture.
We thought it was over weeks ago.
It's not.
So we're back on our knees, begging God for this little one. I was begging God to make sure his family adored him and knew how special he is, but now I'm begging to be his mom. I'm begging to bring a sibling home to the boys, another son for my husband, I can already hear his laughter, see his mischief and predict how they'll all gang up on me.
I thought it was over.
When we interviewed for the boys I was SURE a foot in mouth comment eliminated us from the running. God used that comment, though, and they became our sons (mostly because of the comment, ironically, go God). I'm praying history is repeating itself and my conviction that he's not ours, my grief over him, is the unnecessary grief of a mother who does not yet know she's a mother.
Did I mention that I hate waiting? And that this is a roller coaster?
We should hear if we got an interview (which would mean we've made the short list), in the next week or two. I pray. I pray REALLY hard we'll find out we did. And that we interview and it's an easy choice for the social workers to send this boy home to us.
Then our gotcha day will be one bigger, one happier, one more!
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