court room #213

Yesterday, after we returned "home" from the orphanage, we went through the possible court questions. Practicing how to answer them warmly but efficiently. This morning Vlad and Anna, our coordinator, came to pick us up and take us to court. We were brought to the court house along with another family that was having their hearing. All of us we told to sit and wait on these benches near the door while Anna went and did something with our passports. Time passes and we chat with the other family. They are from Malta and this is their second Russian adoption.
Our social worker, from the orphanage, walks in and shakes our hands then goes off somewhere. We just continue to sit and make conversation, which I find thrilling because I love chatting with strangers. Finally, it is time to go upstairs. Anna says "sit here" to the other family and "come on your first" to us. Here we go.
It's not a courty looking court room. Nothing like you see on the people's court, judge judy, law & order it's more of a closet looking court room. The judge sits in her judge like robe at her desk, the prosecutor sits on one side, a note taker on the other, then our social worker, translator, Jim and myself all mashed into closet court room #213.
The judge calls the meeting to order and states the purpose. Jim is asked to stand and state his basic information, then I am asked the same. I sit and Jim stands back up to answer all the important questions about his job, our house, our family and friends, why adopt, etc. Jim sits and I am asked if there is anything I would like to add, she asks again why adopt, why not biological kids instead, why don't I work, and if I have experience caring for small children.
The judge seems to be done with her questions and the prosecutor would like me to state again why we are adopting and not having a biological kid right now.
Side note... In our minds it makes so much sense to adopt first. The process is long, and hard, and requires a lot of time away from home. It would just be so hard to do with another child at home. However, Russia acts like this is the first time they have ever heard of such an insane idea.
The judge goes through our dossier. Right there, right before us all that hard work just swishing by so quickly, I assume it means everything is proper and all in order. She does not ask for any of the additional papers that we have brought with us. She asks if we need more time, no. She asks if we need more information, no. She asks if we would like to adopt him, yes yes please.
Next up is the social worker. She is the one on our side. She observed us back in August when we visited the orphanage. She states that when the boy was brought in he was starting to cry and we hugged him, comforted him, and made him feel happy. She tells about us playing and interacting with him. As she talks I'm starting to feel like it's the beginning of the end, I know I'm going to start crying soon. I start my I wont cry mantra, that sounds like this "I like baseball, the Red Sox play baseball" It's not working. The social worker carries on about how adoption by us would be the best for this child. The social worker is finished and everyone but the judge has to leave the room so she can deliberate, as if there is really something to think about!
Off to the hall we go. We spend about two minutes standing in the hall, just enough time for me to clear the lump out of my throat. Back in and sit down. The judge says that she thinks our home and our family would be the best for this child. We agree. I want to shake her hand. I want to thank her, thank everyone there, but I have no words. My face is streaming with tears and I hear them giggling as I walk out the door. Anna gives me a hug and I pull myself together. Jim and I go back to the hall to sit and the other couple says "congratulations mama and papa"

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Thank you for all your prayers, support, and encouragement. The journey isn't over but we are starting to see that faint light at the end of the tunnel. Jim leaves Kemerovo tomorrow on a 7:00am flight for an insane day of travel back to Kansas.