Love isn’t meant to be conditional—but for my sister, it was. Without a shred of guilt, she gave up her adopted daughter after having a biological son. When our family visited to celebrate her new baby boy, Noah, I discovered all traces of Lily were gone. When I asked about her, Erin nonchalantly replied, “I gave her back,” as if a child were a toy to return.
Erin dismissed Lily as “temporary,” now unnecessary because she had a real child. Her callous words and disregard shattered me—I remembered the times I saw Erin lovingly care for Lily, insisting that “blood doesn’t make a family, love does.” Soon after, Child Protective Services arrived to investigate her hasty decision and lack of proper transition for Lily.
Determined to right this wrong, I fought through endless paperwork, home studies, and legal hurdles to pursue custody. After months of struggle, I finally adopted Lily. Though our new life together wasn’t perfect—she had nightmares and unanswered questions—we healed with patience, love, and therapy. Today, as I watch Lily celebrate her sixth birthday, I know that sometimes the happiest endings arise from the most painful beginnings, and that the family you fight for is more precious than the one you’re born into.
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