A Long Road to Parenthood

After years of painful infertility treatments, my husband Mark and I decided to adopt. The process was emotionally draining, filled with interviews, inspections, and waiting. At times, I feared I’d never become a mother.

Meeting Sam

Then we met Sam—a sweet, wide-eyed three-year-old with “ocean-blue eyes that felt like they were looking straight into my heart.” When we visited the agency, my nerves were overwhelming. I asked Mark, “Are you nervous?” He laughed, but I saw the tension. As we entered the room, Sam looked up and smiled shyly. I knelt and whispered, “Hi, Sam. I’m your mom. Do you want to come home with us?” He reached for my hand, and in that moment, everything changed.

Home, At Last

The ride home was quiet, Sam clutching a stuffed elephant and making soft, trumpet sounds. Watching him and Mark together filled me with joy. We settled in, and Mark offered to bathe Sam. I heard laughter down the hall, thinking, everything is falling into place. But then, Mark burst out, pale and shaking: “WE HAVE TO TAKE HIM BACK!” He admitted he felt nothing—no bond, no connection.

The Shocking Truth

Trying to stay calm, I found Sam alone in the tub, holding his elephant. As I dried him off, I noticed a birthmark on his foot—a small crescent, identical to Mark’s. Later, I confronted Mark. “Why does Sam have the exact same birthmark as you?” His face turned white. Eventually, he confessed: years ago, he had a one-night stand. Sam was his biological son.

“You wanted to give him back,” I said, my voice trembling. I couldn’t understand how he could even think of walking away—from his own child.