Mama and Papa came back!

We have been away for a full month.  Finally it was time to see our boys again.  Will they remember us?  we wondered.  Are they healthy?  Are they all right?  We sat in the same visiting room, on the same shiny couch, waiting.  For twenty minutes or so, we waited.  (It always takes them awhile to get the boys dressed and ready to come out for a visit.)  Finally we heard crying.  And we knew that crying right away!  The same voice that we heard for the first time a month ago, echoing down the hallway.  Micah!  Our little boy, crying and fighting against the hands that held him, so unaccustomed to being touched or carried, desperately wanting to be laid back down.  The nanny walked into the visiting room with him, bundled inside a huge blanket, a fuzzy hat, a pink sweater, and several layers of clothing.  I took him, kissed him, hugged him, and then finally let him lay down on the couch.  And then he stopped crying and smiled at me.  He seems happy to see us again.  As long as we don't try to pick him up.  We have definitely lost any ground we gained with Micah previously.  We will need to build up trust slowly with this boy.  Sweet sweet boy, it may be a long journey for you, but we will help you to learn to love being held and cuddled.  No matter how long it takes, we will not give up on you.  You are precious and beautiful, and so worthy.  We love you so much!

And then Gideon was pushed in on his tiny little wheelchair.  And as soon as he saw me, he launched himself out of the chair and into my arms!  He hugged me and pressed his cheek against mine!  He remembers!  He was so excited to see us again (and to get out of the confines of the laying-down room, I am sure!)  Twice during our visit, he called me Mama.  Oh, my boy!  I was told this boy does not talk.  He calls me Mama!  My smart, strong little boy!  Oh, how I love you!  Oh, how my heart sings to see you giggle and run and play! 

Tomorrow we have court.  Please pray that tomorrow the judge will grant these boys what they need more than anything else:  a family.