Recently, I found the courage to look for my son, but what I discovered shocked me.
The adoption agency told me that years ago, he had also tried to find me. My hands shook as I read their email. When he turned 18, he asked for information about his biological mother. But at that time, I had already moved away and changed my contact details, so they couldn’t reach me.
For years, he believed I didn’t want to be found. That realization broke my heart.
I asked the agency if they knew where he is now. They said he had left a letter in case I ever searched for him. My chest felt tight as I opened the copy they sent.
The letter began simply:
“To my birth mom, if you ever read this…”
He wrote that he didn’t hate me. His adoptive parents had always been honest with him—that a young woman loved him enough to give him a better life.
He said he spent years wondering what I look like, what my voice sounds like, and if I ever think about him.
As I read, I couldn’t stop crying.
At the end of the letter, he wrote something that made me cry even more:
“If you’re looking for me now, I hope you’re okay. I just want you to know… I’m doing fine.”
Later, the agency told me he became a teacher and now has his own family.
For the first time in 28 years, the guilt in my heart felt a little lighter. I had always been afraid he would hate me for giving him up.
But instead, he understood.
And now, after all this time, there’s finally a chance that maybe… one day, we could meet.