Could I really do this? Could I be the mom a child needed, even if they weren’t born to me?
Finally, one morning, as I watched Jacob drinking his coffee at the kitchen table, I made my decision.
“I’m ready,” I said quietly.
He looked up and his eyes were full of hope. “Ready for what?”
“For adoption,” I announced.
“What?” Jacob’s face lit up. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”
“Wait,” I said, raising an eyebrow. “You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?”
He laughed.
“Maybe a little,” he admitted. “I’ve been looking into foster homes nearby. There’s one not too far. We could go and visit this weekend if you’re ready.”
“Let’s do it,” I nodded. “Let’s go visit the foster home this weekend.”
The weekend came sooner than I thought. As we drove to the foster home, I looked out the window, trying to calm my nerves.
“What if they don’t like us?” I whispered.
“They’ll love us,” Jacob said, squeezing my hand. “And if they don’t, we’ll figure it out together.”
When we arrived, a kind woman named Mrs. Jones greeted us at the door. She led us inside and told us about the place.
“We have some great kids here that I think you’ll really like,” she said, taking us to a playroom filled with kids having fun.
As my eyes scanned the room, they stopped on a little boy sitting in the corner. He wasn’t playing like the others. He was just watching.
His big eyes were so full of thought, and it seemed like he could see right through me.
“Hi there,” I said, crouching down beside him. “What’s your name?”
He looked at me but didn’t say a word. Instead, he just blinked slowly, as if sizing me up. Mrs. Jones came over and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “This is Bobby. He’s a quiet one, but he’s got a heart of gold.”
I smiled at him, trying to make him feel at ease.
“Do you want to show me what you’re looking at?” I asked, gesturing to the picture book in his lap.
Bobby hesitated for a moment, then nodded ever so slightly. He turned the pages slowly, pointing at the colorful illustrations with his small finger. I sat there beside him, listening intently as he made soft, non – verbal sounds, trying to convey his thoughts.
