Had you told me this time last year that I would be buying diapers and bottles and potty seats and pink newborn outfits and size 7 Spiderman shoes and cribs and infant car seats and sippy cups and doorknob safety covers and all the other supplies that come with two babies, I would have laughed and said, "Whatever".
Had you told me that these two babies would be siblings born to a drug addicted mother who loves her children very much, I would have raised my eyebrows and said "Yeah, right!"
Had you told me that, aside from a speech delay that is now resolved, the 2 year old would be advanced in all areas of development, I would have asked for a second opinion.
Had you told me that the newborn would show absolutely no signs of drug addiction, I would have requested every available test be performed.
Upstairs right now, sleeping safely in their beds, are two of the six most beautiful children ever born. They were not in our home this time last year. The mother who gave them life knows that she faces a very hard battle, and she hopes to overcome her addictions. Only time will tell if she is successful. She does not want her children spending that time without a permanent family to care for them. The father who created these children is rumored to feel the same way, but circumstances have not allowed that decision to be finalized yet.
During the past nine months, I have come to love these children just like I cherish the children I carried inside me for 9 months.
My little boy kissed everyone goodnight, took his Jo-Jo, his Chrissy Jo-Jo, his Big Blue, his Little Blue, and his Purple Monkey and walked upstairs with Daddy, where he prayed for happy dreams. Daddy tucked him under the covers, latched the gate so he won't escape downstairs to watch cartoons unsupervised, and left the room.
My baby girl snuggled into my arms with her bottle and her pink silky blankie and fell asleep as I rocked her. I carried her to her crib and covered her up with a blanket her brother Gabe gave her. She sighed, and I left the room.
My baby girl will giggle at me, show me her dimples, and reach to pinch my face when I pick her up from the bed. My little boy will stand at the gate calling "Mommy. I get up now. I waked up. I get Jo-Jo." until I come and release him from his confinement.
I will kiss them, because that's what Mommies do.