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The amazing moment a biological mother reunites with her son is 33 years after his adoption.
I was 14 years old, pregnant, and completely shocked. I foolishly believed that I could wish the pregnancy out of my body.But my physique was changing, and gossip in high school was rife.
I soon had to tell his parents and my mother about the baby, along with my boyfriend, Sidney. Adoption was the choice, and they all agreed.It just seemed natural to give our kid up for adoption. I kept telling myself that everything was for the best. It was necessary, wasn’t it?
Photo Credits – Shelley Pitts
“The Adoption Caseworker Held My Hand As I Gave Delivery.”
I was given a place to reside during my pregnancy by the adoption agency we chose, which was awkward and lonesome. I stayed there for four months. The place was four hours from home.
The caseworker from the adoption agency held my hand and instructed me to push while I went through labor. I wasn’t able to bring anyone from home with me. I was by myself.It seemed as if I were witnessing someone else go through it. It seemed bizarre. I hardly made a sound and simply followed the instructions like a machine.
My son was born on March 29 at 12:54 p.m. Even though they warned that seeing him would be traumatic, I chose to go.But I needed to see him. I was unable to bear the thought of leaving without at least one final hold on him.
He was ideal, but we weren’t meant to be together. I convinced myself that with his adoptive parents, he would lead a better life.When they took him, I remained unmoved. I distinctly recall feeling embarrassed, as if I had no right to cry. I was sacrificing my child. No one could possibly feel sorry for me, right?
I Looked For My Kid After He Reached 30.
I got married, had three children, and got divorced in my twenties, but I never forgot about my son.
Every year on his birthday, I would celebrate in silence.
I frequently imagined he might come across me in his thirties, so after his 30th birthday, I signed up for an adoption reunion website that connected you with people who met your specified criteria. Nobody found any matches.
I returned to the webpage on March 17, 2021, as I was aware that his 33rd birthday was soon coming. And surprise, surprise, an 81 percent match appeared.OK, Shelley, don’t get too enthusiastic, I told myself.
But something continued to bug me, so I looked up the name on the Facebook profile.
I came upon a photo of a young man in a thick coat taking a selfie outside in the snow. I could see my own eyes gazing back at me. The lips belonged to his father. Immediately, I realized it. I found my son.
33 Years After His Adoption, I Reconnected With My Son On Facebook.
I quickly messaged him privately. Happy birthday, I’m your birth mother. Without just blurting it out, I’m not sure how else to explain that. I hope you reply. I still can’t believe I found you.
When I awoke, I went to see if he had received the message, but he hadn’t. I did, however, get a reply from him on March 31.
“Hi. I’m not sure where to begin. I would love to speak with you. My heart is breaking open.
He responded with the answer to my worry that he would be angry with me for abandoning him.”This feels almost like a dream. Though I have a ton of things I want to express, I am at a loss for words. Know that I love you. I have never been angry with you before.
I exhaled a sigh of relaxation and started to cry tears of gratitude.I recognized my son Daniel when my phone rang and answered. I was unable to reply quickly enough. I said, “Hello,” and Daniel replied, “Hey there.” The voice was my son’s
“My Son Came Home After 33 Years.”
Daniel visited me on April 29. I was so excited I could hardly stand still due to the excitement at the airport, which was almost too much.
I’d never experienced anything like Daniel’s first hug. My heart overflowed as it became completely full. I kept whispering in his ear, “I can’t believe you’re finally here.He was limited to a low-pitched chuckle. My son had come home.
Family, food, and all the love we could manage were present over the next six days.It was difficult to say goodbye to Daniel when he moved back to Virginia.He gave me a forehead kiss before getting his bag and heading into the airport after we had been hugging for several minutes.
But Daniel wasn’t really leaving. This was only the start.Both Daniel, Shelley’s son, and she can be found on Facebook.
What do you think about this lovely encounter? Do you know anyone who has experienced a similar incident? Please let us know, and don’t forget to spread the news so that we can hear from more people.
