The journey had taken three years and forty-five minutes. Almost three years ago to the day we began to travel this road. The road had many twists and turns. A few detours. But here we were. We pulled into the driveway. I looked anxiously at this house, looking again at the windmill in the front yard. And again, I was amazed at how this journey had led us here, to this place.
We walked up to the door and knocked. After a few seconds, the door opened and we were greeted by the most beautiful sight I have ever seen. There he was, my boy. He was dressed in a little choo-choo train outfit with a red onesie and the cutest little hat I have ever seen. His name, the name that we chose for our boy, was embroidered on the front, “Isaac.” His foster mother held him out to me, and I held him for the first time since we had brought him back here 3 days ago.
We were allowed only a weekend visit after first meeting our son, to make sure we were a “good fit.” We loved bringing him home for the first time. It was the 4th of July weekend, and he experienced fireworks for the first time with us. And since we have a great view of the fireworks from where we live, we had a host of friends and family over to celebrate both the birth of our country and the arrival of our son. He was surrounded by love on that weekend. And it just seemed wrong that we had to take him back to his foster home after just a few short days with us.
But we did. When we left the house that day, I felt like I had left a piece of myself there as well.
Now, a few days later, we were back, reuniting with our son. Holding Isaac Lee felt like a dream come true. His adoption wasn’t final until almost 18 months later, but that day he truly became our son. And while it took us 3 years of background checks, health exams, parenting classes and more paperwork than you can imagine, when I was holding my boy, it all seemed such a tiny price to pay for such an enormous gift.
It was a reunion I will never forget.