The Adoption That Changed Everything
After years of failed treatments, doctor visits, and quiet heartbreaks we pretended didn’t exist, adoption felt like the answer we’d been waiting for. When our application was finally approved, it felt surreal—like the universe had handed us a second chance.
That chance came as Luca.
He was three, small for his age, with ocean-blue eyes that seemed too knowing for such a young face. His file said he’d been abandoned at birth. No father listed. No family to step in.
When I showed his photo to Dario, my husband, he studied it in silence for a long moment.
“He looks like a good kid,” he finally said. “Those eyes… they’re something else.”
“Can we handle a toddler?” I asked. We’d always imagined a baby.
Dario smiled, squeezing my shoulder. “No matter his age, you’ll be an incredible mom.”
And for the first time in years, I believed him.
The adoption process consumed me: paperwork, interviews, home inspections. Dario was busy with his business, so the logistics fell to me—and I didn’t mind. I wanted this more than anything.
The day we brought Luca home, I clutched a soft blue sweater I’d bought weeks ago, imagining him in it, imagining our life finally beginning. At the agency, Luca was building a crooked tower of blocks. I knelt beside him. He studied me carefully, then handed me a red block. That small gesture felt monumental.
The drive home was quiet and calm. Luca hugged the stuffed elephant we gave him, making soft trumpet sounds that made Dario laugh. I kept turning to look at him in his car seat, hardly believing he was ours.
Once home, I unpacked his tiny duffel bag. Just a few clothes. A toothbrush. His entire world fit in one small bag.
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