I Met My Son

It was love at first sight

“I don’t usually like strangers. But I like you,” the boy said to me, looking up with his green eyes after I jumped off the balance beam on the playground. 

He didn’t know this, but I had spent the past six months waiting to meet him. I was hoping to be his mom. 

I had first laid eyes on this boy less than an hour ago, when an entourage of social workers ushered my husband and me into a basement room. Our hopefully-future-child sat at a conference table with several more social workers, opening a tiny box full of parts to make a model crane. He paused for a moment as we were introduced as friends of Sue, the lady from the state foster care agency who visits him every month. 

I held my breath anticipating his reaction. Would he sniff out the ruse and run from the room, terrified at the thought of being adopted? Would he clam up and tune out the strangers who crashed his playtime? Time froze while he looked us over. 

These two people showed up to meet their son.

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