There shouldn’t be any restrictions on love. However, it did for my sister. After having a biological son, she gave up her adopted daughter without feeling guilty. “She wasn’t really mine anywa,” she shrugged as I attempted to understand the cruelty.
For me, it was four simple words my sister uttered about her adopted daughter, who was four years old, “I gave her back.” “There are moments that shatter you, crack open your chest, and leave you gasping for air.”
When my sister Erin gave birth to a newborn boy, the entire family decided to come celebrate. We hadn’t seen her in months because she lived a few states away and we wanted to give her space throughout her pregnancy.
I packed my four-year-old goddaughter Lily with thoughtfully wrapped presents and a treasured teddy bear.
As we arrived to Erin’s suburban house, I saw that the yard had changed: Lily’s beloved plastic slide was gone, as was the small sunflower garden we had planted together the previous summer.
“Everyone, meet Noah!” Erin said as she answered the door, bouncing a swaddled infant in her arms. With the infant facing us, she declared.
We all cooed, and Mom reached for him right away, and Dad began taking pictures. I looked around the living room and saw that there were no more signs of Lily—no pictures on the wall, no toys lying around, no drawings of stick figures.
“Where is Lily? Grinning and still clutching her gift, I inquired.
Erin’s face froze the moment I spoke her name, and she glanced at her boyfriend, Sam, who seemed very interested in turning the thermostat on.
Without any remorse, she then exclaimed: “Oh! I returned her.
I was positive that I had misheard. “What do you mean, ‘gave her back,'” I inquired.
The silence felt like concrete hardening around my feet when Dad dropped his camera and Mom stopped rocking baby Noah.
“You know I always wanted to be a boy mom,” Erin sighed, seemingly stating the obvious, “and now I have Noah.” What’s the point of having a daughter? Remember that Lily was adopted. She is no longer necessary for me.
“You returned her? With my gift box on the ground, I screamed, “Erin, you should go back to the store because she’s not a toy! She’s a kid! ”
“Calm down, Angela,” she said, rolling her eyes. In any case, she wasn’t truly mine. I didn’t give up my own child, really. She was simply… momentary.”
“Temporary?” struck me like a slap, as though Lily had only served as a stand-in until the real thing arrived.
“Transient? “That little girl called you ‘Mommy’ for two years!” I said again, raising my voice. ”
“Ah, well, she can call someone else that now.”
“Erin, how can you say that? How are you even able to consider it? ”
“You’re making this into something it’s not,” she said. “I did what was best for everyone.”
How many times had I heard Erin say, “Blood doesn’t make a family, love does?” while I saw her with Lily, reading her stories, stroking her hair, and announcing to everyone that she was her daughter?
“What was altered? “You fought for her,” I insisted. The amount of paperwork you went through was enormous. When the adoption was finalized, you sobbed.
“That was before,” she remarked sarcastically, “but now things are different.”
“In a different way? Because now you have a’real’ child by some miracle? How does that convey a message to Lily? ”
“Look, you’re exaggerating this, Angela. I cherished Lily. I acknowledge that. However, I don’t want to split that love any more now that my biological kid is here. He requires all of my attention and care. Lily will undoubtedly find a new home.
At that moment, I realized that Lily was more than simply Erin’s daughter; she was also, in a sense, mine. I was her godmother, and I rocked her to sleep and held her when she cried.
I had wanted to have children for years, but life had been harsh. I had miscarried repeatedly, each time taking a piece of me and leaving a hole that Lily filled with her laughter, her small hands reaching for mine, and her tiny voice calling me “Auntie Angie.”
How could Erin have thrown her away as if she didn’t matter?
“The moment you had your’real’ child, you threw her aside after holding her in your arms, calling her your daughter, and allowing her to call you Mom! ”
Noah began to fuss as Erin sneered, “She was a foster child first.” She was aware that this might occur.
“Erin, she is FOUR YEARS OLD. You were her world.” I said, my hands trembling.
“Look, we didn’t make this decision lightly,” said Sam at last. Right now, Noah requires all of our attention.
“You believe it was fair to leave her? I questioned incredulously.
“The agency found her a good placement,” Sam murmured. “She’ll be fine.”
If only I had known that karma had come so quickly. Sam rushed to answer the door before I could reply, and from where I stood, I could see a guy and a lady dressed professionally on the porch.
“Ms. Erin? The woman held up an ID as she asked.
“My name is Vanessa, and this is David, my coworker. Our organization is Child Protective Services. We would want to discuss certain issues that have come to our attention with you.
Erin’s face was losing color as she blinked. “CPS? However… Why? ”
“We have some questions regarding your adoption process and your ability to provide a stable home for your son.”
Erin tightened her grip on Noah, saying, “My son? How is he connected to anything? ”
The CPS employees came in and sat down at Erin’s dinner table.
“We have reason to believe that you expedited the adoption dissolution process and dismissed necessary counseling before relinquishing custody of your daughter, Lily,” Vanessa stated.
With wide eyes, Erin looked to us for support, but she received none.
“This… This is absurd,” she stumbled, “I did everything that was required by law! ”
“Your neighbor reported that you returned a legally adopted child within days of giving birth, with no apparent transition plan,” David said as he went through his notes. That calls into question your parental judgment.
Erin’s confidence collapsed as I recalled her long-standing conflict with her neighbor, Mrs. Thompson, who had always showered Lily with attention.
“Hold on… What are you not saying?
“We must make sure that your present youngster is in a secure setting, ma’am. We’ll be looking into this thoroughly.”
“My baby cannot be taken by you! “He’s MY SON. I won’t let you —” Erin sobbed.
When she realized what she had implied, she stopped suddenly.
“At this time, we are not accepting anyone. However, we must adhere to protocol. Please cooperate.
“Where is Lily right now? I questioned the CPS employees.
Vanessa gave me a quick look and said, “And you are? ”
Erin’s sister, Angela. In addition, I am Lily’s godmother.
“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information at this time.”
Erin’s boyfriend remained silent, his face tense with remorse.
Perhaps I should have felt sorry for Erin, but I didn’t. She was desperate and stuck; she had thrown Lily away like she was nothing, and now the system was determining whether or not she even deserved to keep her son.
The battle was far from done. I couldn’t stop thinking about Lily even as CPS began their investigation.
As CPS continued their investigation into Erin and Sam, Mom phoned me every day with developments, and I spent weeks contacting agencies, searching adoption networks, and hiring a lawyer.
“They questioned everyone on the block,” she stated to me. “Erin is furious.”
“Has she mentioned Lily at all? inquired about her health. Exhibited any regret at all? ”
“No. She simply insists on doing what was right.
On a Tuesday morning, my lawyer called, and we finally got a lead.
“I’ve been in touch with a colleague who works with the state foster system,” she stated. “She hinted that Lily might still be in foster care.”
I jumped with joy. “She hasn’t been taken in by another family? ”
“It doesn’t seem to. Perhaps we can get custody if you’re sincere about it.”
My words were firm: “I’m serious,” “Whatever it takes.”
I pulled out pictures of Lily that night, including her plump baby face when I first saw her, her cake-smeared smile on her second birthday, and her amazed gaze at the tree’s lights at Christmas last year.
I muttered, “I’m coming, Lily-bug,” to her beaming face. “I swear.”
I painted my spare bedroom pink, the exact color Lily had always desired, covered the walls with butterfly decals, and stocked the empty shelves with her favorite toys. The next three months vanished into a whirl of paperwork, home studies, interviews, and restless nights.
After their first shock, my parents jumped right in to help. Mom knitted a new blanket with Lily’s name embroidered in the corner, and Dad constructed a bookshelf shaped like a castle.
Early in May, I received preliminary approval, allowing me to visit Lily under supervision.
I sat on the edge of a chair in the cheery Family Connections Center, which had cartoon animal paintings on the walls, and held a small stuffed elephant that I had bought for Lily.
A kind-eyed woman emerged. “Ms. Angela? Lily’s caseworker is myself, Grace. We are now prepared for you.
I followed her into a tiny playroom, where I saw Lily sitting at a small table with crayons all around her.
She was small, much smaller than I remembered, and her eyes were guarded and suspicious when she glanced up, as no four-year-old’s eyes should be.
In an instant, my heart broke and then reformed.
“Lily? I muttered.
She gazed at me, uncertain at first, then a smile spread across her face as the recollection came to her.
“Auntie Angie? She chirped.
She hesitated for a second before running into my arms as I sank to my knees and held them out.
Despite my sobs, I managed to utter, “I missed you, Lily-bug,” “I missed you so much.”
Her tiny hands cupped my cheeks as she withdrew. “Where did you go? I kept on waiting. Mommy left me; she said she would return, but she never did. Auntie, why did she leave me? ”
I was devastated by the innocent query. “I’m so sorry, honey. I was unaware of your location. However, I searched everywhere for you. I swear I did.
With a somber nod, she said, “I now live with Miss Karen. She’s pleasant. However, she lacks your level of pancake-making expertise.
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to do more than just visit,” I said, laughing through my tears. I’ve been discussing your moving in with me with a few folks. Do you want that? ”
“In your house?,” Lily said, her eyes widening. With the large windows? ”
“You’re correct. Additionally, I’ve reserved a particular space for you. with butterflies and pink walls.
“What about Mommy and the infant? With an abrupt pause in her speech, she inquired about my sister and Noah.
I inhaled deeply before answering the question I had been dreading: “No, my love. Neither the baby nor Mommy. However, you’ll have Daddy and me. Only the three of us.
Her little face furrowed in perplexity. “Is Mommy still upset with me? ”
I was taken aback by the question. “Are you angry? What makes you believe that? ”
“I must have been bad,” she said, glancing down at her hands. She didn’t want me anymore because of this.
I tilted her chin up gently and said, “Listen, Lily. There was nothing wrong with you. Nothing. Adults make mistakes sometimes. Large errors. Furthermore, you weren’t at responsible for what occurred.
With her eyes seeking mine for the truth, she thought about this. “Promise? ”
“I swear. I also promise you something else. I promise never to leave you if you move in with me. Regardless.”
“Never, ever? “With a modest yet optimistic tone, she inquired.
“Never, ever, ever. That is the meaning of family. True family.
When Lily returned home three months later, I accomplished something Erin could never do.
I battled, completing background checks, home studies, and parenting programs, and repeatedly demonstrating that I would be the parent Lily deserved.
Mom, Dad, and my husband, Alex, were present as I signed the official adoption documents.
Mom said, “We’re proud of you,” and she squeezed my hand.
Alex kissed my temple and put his arm around my shoulders, saying, “We did it.”
Lily wrapped her arms around my neck as the court declared us to be a family. “We did it, Mommy! ”
I had long hoped to hear the word “mommy” from the youngster who had always had a special place in my heart.
Our relationship wasn’t flawless; Lily had nightmares, occasionally hid food out of fear that it would be taken away, and asked me difficult-to-answer questions about Erin and the reasons for her previous family’s abandonment.
But with love, patience, a compassionate therapist, and the unwavering belief that we belonged together, we worked through it together.
And Erin? Despite requiring her to attend parenting classes and have frequent check-ins, CPS ultimately concluded their investigation without removing Noah.
For my part, I achieved all of my goals.
Last week, Lily turned six. She was in the backyard with her kindergarten classmates, wearing a butterfly crown she had made herself, laughing as Alex helped them construct fairy houses. Mom was in the kitchen setting candles on a cake in the shape of a castle, while Dad stood close by, offering small twigs and leaves.
The same three figures—two towering, one small—but now encircled by butterflies and hearts were in the crayon drawing she had given me on my first day at the visitation center, and I was observing it all while holding the frame containing her most recent school photo.
She’s at home, where she should have been all along.
Sometimes the most treasured family is the one you fight for, sometimes the most painful beginnings lead to the best ends, and sometimes the universe has a way of making things right by placing individuals in the appropriate place.
Here’s an additional
When my sister disappeared at the age of 20, leaving her son behind, I became a mother suddenly. He was mine for 12 years until she returned, not with love or regret, but with a demand that completely altered our lives.
Any resemblance to real people, living or deceased, or real events is purely coincidental and not the author’s intention; this work is inspired by real events and people but has been fictionalized for artistic purposes, with names, characters, and details altered to preserve privacy and improve the story.
This story is given “as is,” and any thoughts expressed are those of the characters and do not represent the viewpoints of the author or publisher. The author and publisher do not guarantee that events or character portrayals are accurate, and they are not responsible for any misunderstanding.
