Indescribable

There are days when words just can't describe your feelings. In fact, putting things into words almost feels...sacrilegious.

Today was one of those days. This whole week, in fact, has been surreal. Here we are just doing our normal thing while the clock is ticking bringing us ever closer to our adoption day.

But in the midst of doing our normal thing, there has been a LOT of craziness. Unannounced visits from various agencies, friends announcing their plans for surprise adoption parties, thousands of pages dropped off in several three-inch-thick binders for us to read in about 30 hours, last minute meetings, signing our names hundreds of times, initialing dozens of pages--in triplicate, being told the new rules that are only in place from now until adoption day, finding and correcting errors in legal documents, asking questions of CPS to fill in holes and gaps, negotiating via phone for life-changing information, discovering amazing little tidbits I've only hoped to know...and it's all worth it.

Our entire family is waiting with baited breath for the adoption to be finalized. Gamby is coming in from out-of-state with Great Aunt D. Nana is coming from another state. Creative Monkey has only asked a dozen times if he will be able to attend the adoption (shhh...he's skipping school to attend). When we do our adoption preparation work with Tutu and Silly every day, their smiles get bigger and their little bodies burst with energy.

And I honestly wonder why I was ever jealous of my friends who can get pregnant. This is such a beautiful event. Our entire family has worked hard for this to happen. These children can't be any more "mine" if they were carried in my womb.

It makes me wonder why more people don't step out and adopt from foster care. Was it easy? Nope. Is it worth it? Look at my babies' smiles and you tell me.

I have a friend from MOPS and church who does this little thing with Silly. At first, I thought it was funny and didn't get it. W walks up to Silly and says, "Where's your mama?" or points to me and asks "Who's that?" Of course, when he's asked where his mama is, he runs as fast as his chubby little toddler legs will carry him saying, "Mama! Mama! Mama!" and hugs my leg or holds his arms up to be held. And when she asks who I am (I'm typically carrying him when she asks) he lays his head on my shoulder, smiles, and says, "Mama." I didn't get it until she said, "You really are his mama. He doesn't know anyone else." W, I think what you may have been trying to say is "by adoption or by birth, your Mama is your Mama."

One day very soon, I'll be so thrilled to be Tutu and Silly's Mama. Just Mama. Not foster-Mama. Just.

Mama!

And THAT is indescribable.