Are You My Kids?

I cannot even believe I am writing this, but we got a referral for two children last night.  It's inconceivable that it is all happening so fast!  I emailed the agency in the afternoon to ask another question and the social worker replied and said that she got a fax of our homestudy the day before and she was approving it right then and were we ready to see our kids' files?   I requested to see all three sibling groups that were there, but one child was actually older and our homestudy didn't qualify us for that pair.  Then another pair were requested by another family earlier yesterday (unbelievable!) so she sent us the last waiting pair. 

We've decided that we don't want to share details about the kids just yet because we need to really look at everything we've been sent, have the pediatrician review the medical documents, ask a few more questions of the agency, and spend a few days just letting it settle in before we decide to accept or decline the referral.  We have two weeks to think about it.  Until then, we could really use your prayers. 

Absolutely nothing in life prepares you to look at two little faces and wonder "are you my children?"  If so, what will you be like?  What will you think of us?  Of America?  Can we be a good mom & dad to you even though we're not the same race and we don't speak the same language?  If we decide not to accept you as our children, who will?  What will become of you if no one does?  Will we ever not see your faces in our minds and wonder?

This is one of these "hinge" moments on which our life forever turns.  I like to tell people how I stayed at my parents' house the night before our wedding and when I woke up in the morning I ran in the bathroom and started puking.  My mom came in, horrified, that I was sick on my wedding day (and potentially ruining a very important and expensive event).  But I told her "I think I'm okay, it's just that everything's changing".   The other terrifying/exciting/overwhelming time was as we were on our way out the door to go to the hospital to deliver Thomas.  I just sat down on the bed and started crying.  Brian came in, horrified, that I was having some gruesome birth trauma (that might make a mess on the floor or interfere with his eating schedule).  But I told him, "I think I'm okay, I just know it will never be the same after we leave".  Looking at the referral documents yesterday and today, I feel exactly the same way.  Definitely queasy and weepy, with just a hint of gut-cramping abject terror thrown in. 

I should not be allowed to operate heavy machinery in this state.  My drive to school today was a blur and when I stepped out of the car I looked down and thought, "Thank God I put on shoes!"  I really had no recollection of doing it, but since I wasn't wearing my slippers, I was really happy.

So we'll keep you all posted... isn't this more exciting than paperwork???