Epiphany

We had just sent some photos to the boys' Oregon family via email. They'd asked for an update.

I was daydreaming in the car on the way home for lunch a few days later. Listening to the radio, and I glanced back into the back seat and saw the car seats. Out of nowhere, I imagined buckling those car seats into someone else's car, strapping the boys in, and saying goodbye. Closing the doors of someone else's car with MY boys inside.

My boys. My. Boys.

My stomach lurched, and I pulled over to the side of the road for a minute, surprised that I was about to cry. When I got it together, I drove the rest of the way home and told James what had happened. I said that I couldn't let them go. He started to grin..."I knew it. I knew you weren't going to be able to let them go." Despite everything that had gone on for the past 2 months, despite my assertions that going to be with biological family would be the most beneficial solution, despite my earlier feelings of despair, they had become my kids and I loved them. We were making a difference--Thing 1 rarely had a tantrum anymore, Thing 2 was speaking more and more and hadn't run from us in weeks. We were really making progress.

I called my mom. She too said, "yup, I knew you weren't going to give them back." My sister said the same thing. Am I so predictable, so transparent that everyone knew that about me but me?

We informed the social workers, who let the Oregon family know. They weren't upset--they were planning to take them out of obligation, but they were nearly done raising kids and weren't looking forward to starting again.