three years

December 11, 2006. It was a Monday. I wasn't supposed to work, but was called in to sub (I was teaching preschool at the time). Just another day, so I thought, until I checked my phone during my break and saw that I had received a call from our adoption agency. *The* call from our adoption agency.

Immediately, I began shaking. It took me about 20 minutes to calm down enough to gather a piece of paper, pen and have the fine motor control to actually dial the number.

The first thing she said was "They're twins". Which blew my mind. I knew it was a possibility, but several families had been referred twins (and triplets) before us, and twins weren't really on our radar at all.

The next thing she said was "They were born May 2nd, 2006", to which I blurted out incredulously "They're Babies!?!". Babies also were not on our radar. If I'm being brutally honest, one small reason why we wanted to adopt was so that we could skip the baby stage. My entire world was rocked and immediately I had to begin rethinking all my plans.

Twin babies meant diapers, bottles, cribs. It meant bibs and teeny tiny clothing. It meant that I would have to carry them up 42 stairs to our third floor condo all by myself most days, if we chose to venture outside. I never would have asked for two babies, but now, three years later, I cannot imagine my life without them.

I waited 5 hours (until Jon got home from work) to see their faces.

In three years, they've each gained about 22 pounds, 14 inches, and about 83 million words. Their little personalities, which were vaguely present even upon our first meeting, have developed as they've become independent little individuals.

I always say that Tsege was sunshine and roses from the moment we met her. She has always been an introspective child, and when she was young, she studied people so intensely that it was, at times, jarring. Now, three years later, Tsege maintains that same intensity, channeled into whatever she's doing at the moment. She is the sort of child who will one day move mountains through sheer force of will. She is a perfectionist, and will work at something without pause until she achieves her goals. At 3.5, she is beginning to read, sounding out each letter she sees and putting them together phonetically. She loves music, dancing, gymnastics, and has great raw talent in most physical activities. She also loves to test limits and push buttons, but at heart, she is a very loving little girl.

Geremu has always been my sensitive child. He feels the pain and injustice of this world as if it's happening to him personally. He is the sort of child who would share his last train with another child if he knew that child had no toys of their own. Geremu has much less patience than his sister for most things. Instead, he flits from activity to activity throughout the day. However, when it comes to working with his hands and his imagination concurrently (building with blocks, playing with his trains, working on art projects, playing with play-dough, etc.) he stays engaged for hours. He is a remarkable storyteller, and makes connections that often astound me. He sings constantly, and makes up original songs on the spot about any topic you present him with (though he most often wants to sing about trains).

Whereas Tsege stays on a fairly straight and narrow path with her eyes always focused on her goals, Gere is content to meander through life, noticing each flower, garbage truck, bird and train track, and taking a moment to appreciate everything. He reminds me every single day that "this is a beautiful beautiful world".

Our referral day is a bittersweet one for me. It is not the day that our children were relinquished. That is a much more somber rememberance. It is the day that they were presented with a new future -- one that took many things away from them, and replaced what was lost with *us*.

I hope that we are doing right by them.