Love is meant to be unconditional. But for my sister, it wasn’t. Without hesitation, she gave up her adopted daughter the moment she had a biological son. When I tried to understand why, she simply said, “She wasn’t really mine anyway.” But life had a way of catching up with her.
Some moments change you forever. For me, it was hearing my sister say, “I gave her back.”
Erin lived a few states away. We gave her space during her pregnancy, but after she had a baby boy, the whole family planned a visit. I packed gifts, including a special teddy bear for Lily, my four-year-old goddaughter.
When we arrived, I noticed something was off. Lily’s plastic slide was gone. Her sunflower garden had disappeared.
Erin greeted us, holding her newborn. “Meet Noah!” she said excitedly. Everyone admired the baby, but I noticed something else—Lily’s toys and pictures were missing.
“Where’s Lily?” I asked, smiling, still holding her gift.
Erin’s face changed. She glanced at her boyfriend, then said, “Oh! I gave her back.”
I froze. “What do you mean, ‘gave her back’?”
“I always wanted a boy,” she sighed. “Now I have Noah. I don’t need a daughter anymore.”
I felt my heart drop. “You held her, called her your daughter, and now she’s nothing to you?”
“She was just a foster kid first,” she shrugged. “She knew this could happen.”
Before I could react, there was a knock at the door. Two CPS officers stood outside.
“We need to discuss your adoption case,” one said. “There are concerns about your parenting.”
My sister turned pale.
Over the next months, I searched for Lily. Finally, I found out she was still in foster care. I applied to adopt her.
When I saw her again, she hesitated, then ran into my arms. “Auntie Angie?” she whispered.
“I missed you,” I said. “Would you like to live with me?”
Three months later, Lily came home. The day the adoption was finalized, she hugged me tight. “We did it, Mommy!”
Sometimes, the family we fight for means more than the one we are born into.
