I used to believe life was perfect.
I had a lovely husband, a comfortable home, and stable employment that allowed me to follow my hobbies.
But something was missing.
I wanted a child.
But months slipped into years, and that photo never materialized.
We tried everything, from fertility treatments to see the best specialists in town. Each time, we received the same response: “I’m sorry.”
We had just left yet another reproductive clinic. The doctor’s words echoed in my mind.
“There’s nothing more we can do,” he’d said. “Adoption might be your best option.”
Jacob’s hands framed my face, his gaze fixed on mine.
“Alicia, you have more love in you than anyone I know. Biology doesn’t define a parent. Love does. And you… you’re a mom in every way that matters.”
Finally, one morning, as I watched Jacob sipping his coffee at the kitchen table, I made my decision.
“I’m ready,” I said quietly.
“For adoption,” I announced.
“Let’s visit the foster home this weekend.”
When we arrived, Mrs. Jones met us at the door. She led us inside and told us about the place.
As my gaze surveyed the room, it settled on a small boy sitting in the corner. He wasn’t playing like the others. He was observing.
“Hi there,” I said, crouching down beside him. “What’s your name?”
That’s when my focus turned from him to Mrs. Jones.
“Is he, uh, does he not talk?” I asked.
“Oh, Bobby talks,” she chuckled. “He’s just shy. Give him time, and he’ll come around.”
Later, in her office, Mrs. Jones informed us about him.
Bobby had been abandoned as a baby and left near another foster home with a note that stated, “His parents are gone and I am not prepared to care for the boy.”
At that point, I didn’t need any more persuasion. I was prepared to welcome him into our lives.
“We want him,” I said, looking at Jacob.
As we signed the paperwork and prepared to bring Bobby home, I experienced something I hadn’t felt in years. Hope.
We decorated his room with bright colors, bookshelves, and his favorite dinosaurs.
But Bobby stayed mute.
Jacob accompanied him to soccer practice and cheered from the sidelines.
What about Bobby? He only smiled weakly and remained quiet.
At night, I told him bedtime stories.
He always existed, but he never talked.
As his sixth birthday neared, Jacob and I decided to throw him a small celebration.
Only the three of us and a cake with small dinosaurs on top.
As we lighted the candles and sang “Happy Birthday,” I noticed Bobby looking at us carefully. After the song, he blew out the candles and spoke for the first time.
“My parents are alive,” he said softly.
I could not believe my ears.
How did he know that? Was he remembering anything? Had anyone told him?
Later, as I put him into bed, he clutched his new stuffed dinosaur and said, “At the foster place, the grownups said my real mommy and daddy didn’t want me. They’re not d.e.a.d. They just gave me away.”
The next day, Jacob and I returned to the foster home and confronted Mrs. Jones. We needed answers.
“I… I didn’t want you to find out this way,” she admitted, wringing her hands. “But the boy is right. His parents are alive. They’re wealthy and, uh, they didn’t want a child with health issues. They paid my boss to keep it quiet. I didn’t agree with it, but it wasn’t my call.”
Her words felt like a betrayal. How could somebody abandon their child? And for what? Because he wasn’t ideal in their eyes.
When we went home, we explained everything to Bobby as simply as we could. But he remained adamant.
“I wanna see them,” he said, clutching his stuffed dinosaur tightly.
Despite our worries, we felt we couldn’t refuse his request. So we asked Mrs. Jones for his parents’ address and contact information.
Soon, we drove Bobby to his parent’s house.
Jacob knocked on the door, and a well-dressed couple appeared shortly after. Their polished smiles faded the moment they noticed Bobby.
“Are you my mommy and daddy?” the little boy asked.
The couple glanced at one another and appeared to want to disappear. They were embarrassed and began explaining why they had given up their child.
Then he turned to me.
“Mommy,” he began. “I don’t want to go with the people who left me. I don’t like them. I want to be with you and Daddy.”
As we left the mansion, I had a profound sense of calm. Bobby had chosen us the same way we had chosen him.
Bobby thrived after that day, with his smile becoming brighter and his laughter filling our home. He began to fully trust us, expressing his thoughts, dreams, and even his fears.
