When we adopted Bobby, a silent five-year-old boy, we thought time and love would heal his pain. But on his sixth birthday, he shattered our lives with five words: “My parents are alive.” What happened next revealed truths we never saw coming.
I always thought becoming a mother would be natural and effortless. But life had other plans.
When Bobby spoke those words, it wasn’t just his first sentence. It was the beginning of a journey that would test our love, our patience, and everything we believed about family.
A woman in her house | Source: Midjourney
I used to think life was perfect. I had a loving husband, a cozy home, and a steady job that let me pursue my hobbies.
But something was missing. Something I felt in every quiet moment and every glance at the empty second bedroom.
I wanted a child.
When Jacob and I decided to start trying, I was so hopeful. I pictured late-night feedings, messy art projects, and watching our little one grow.
But months turned into years, and that picture never came to life.
A sad woman | Source: Pexels
We tried everything from fertility treatments to visiting the best specialists in town. Each time, we were met with the same answer: “I’m sorry.”
The day it all came crashing down is etched in my mind.
We’d just left yet another fertility clinic. The doctor’s words echoed in my head.
“There’s nothing more we can do,” he’d said. “Adoption might be your best option.”
I held it together until we got home. As soon as I walked into our living room, I collapsed on the sofa, sobbing uncontrollably.
A woman crying on the sofa | Source: Pexels
Jacob followed me.
“Alicia, what happened?” he asked. “Talk to me, please.”
I shook my head, barely able to get the words out. “I just… I don’t understand. Why is this happening to us? All I’ve ever wanted is to be a mom, and now it’s never going to happen.”
“It’s not fair. I know,” he said as he sat beside me and pulled me close. “But maybe there’s another way. Maybe we don’t have to stop here.”
“You mean adoption?” My voice cracked as I looked at him. “Do you really think it’s the same? I don’t even know if I can love a child that isn’t mine.”
A serious woman | Source: Midjourney
Jacob’s hands framed my face, and his eyes locked on mine.
“Alicia, you have more love in you than anyone I know. Biology doesn’t define a parent. Love does. And you… you’re a mom in every way that matters.”
His words lingered in my mind over the next few days. I replayed our conversation every time doubt crept in.
Could I really do this? Could I be the mother a child deserved, even if they weren’t biologically mine?
A woman sitting in her house | Source: Pexels
Finally, one morning, as I watched Jacob sipping his coffee at the kitchen table, I made my decision.
“I’m ready,” I said quietly.
He looked up, his eyes filled with hope. “For what?”
“For adoption,” I announced.
“What?” Jacob’s face lit up. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear that.”
“Wait,” I said, raising a brow. “You’ve already been thinking about this, haven’t you?”
He laughed.
“Maybe a little,” he confessed. “I’ve been researching foster homes nearby. There’s one not too far. We could visit this weekend if you’re ready.”
A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
“Let’s do this,” I nodded. “Let’s visit the foster home this weekend.”
The weekend arrived faster than I expected. As we drove to the foster home, I stared out the window, trying to calm my nerves.
“What if they don’t like us?” I whispered.
“They’ll love us,” Jacob said, squeezing my hand. “And if they don’t, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
When we arrived, a kind woman named Mrs. Jones greeted us at the door. She led us inside while telling us about the place.
A woman standing near a door | Source: Midjourney
“We have some wonderful children I’d love for you to meet,” she said, guiding us to a playroom filled with laughter and chatter.
As my eyes scanned the room, they stopped on a little boy sitting in the corner. He wasn’t playing like the others. He was watching.
His big eyes were so full of thought, and they seemed to see right through me.
“Hi there,” I said, crouching down beside him. “What’s your name?”
He stared at me, silent.
A little boy | Source: Midjourney
That’s when my gaze shifted from him to Mrs. Jones.
“Is he, uh, does he not talk?” I asked.
“Oh, Bobby talks,” she chuckled. “He’s just shy. Give him time, and he’ll come around.”
I turned back to Bobby, my heart aching for this quiet little boy.
“It’s nice to meet you, Bobby,” I said, even though he didn’t respond.
A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney
Later, in her office, Mrs. Jones told us his story.
Bobby had been abandoned as a baby and left near another foster home with a note that read, His parents are dead, and I’m not ready to care for the boy.
“He’s been through more than most adults ever will,” she said. “But he’s a sweet, smart boy. He just needs someone to believe in him. Someone to care for him. And love him.”
At that point, I didn’t need more convincing. I was ready to welcome him into our lives.
“We want him,” I said, looking at Jacob.
He nodded. “Absolutely.”
A man smiling | Source: Midjourney
As we signed the paperwork and prepared to bring Bobby home, I felt something I hadn’t felt in years. Hope.
I didn’t know what challenges lay ahead, but I knew one thing for certain. We were ready to love this little boy with everything we had.
And that was only the beginning.
When we brought Bobby home, our lives changed in ways we never could have imagined.
From the moment he walked into our house, we wanted him to feel safe and loved. We decorated his room with bright colors, shelves full of books, and his favorite dinosaurs.
But Bobby remained silent.
A boy standing in a hallway | Source: Midjourney
He observed everything with those big, thoughtful eyes like he was trying to figure out if this was real or just temporary. Jacob and I poured every ounce of love we had into him, hoping he’d open up.
“Do you want to help me bake cookies, Bobby?” I’d ask, crouching down to his level.
He’d nod, his tiny fingers grabbing the cookie cutters, but he never said a word.
One day, Jacob took him to soccer practice and cheered on from the sidelines.
A soccer ball on a field | Source: Pexels
“Great kick, buddy! You’ve got this!” he shouted.
But Bobby? He just smiled faintly and stayed quiet.
At night, I read him bedtime stories.
“Once upon a time,” I’d begin, peeking over the book to see if he was paying attention.
He always was, but he never spoke.
A little boy smiling | Source: Midjourney
Months passed like this. We didn’t push him because we knew he needed time.
Then his sixth birthday approached, and Jacob and I decided to throw him a small party. Just the three of us and a cake with little dinosaurs on top.
The look on his face when he saw the cake was worth every bit of effort.
“Do you like it, Bobby?” Jacob asked.
Bobby nodded and smiled at us.
A little boy smiling | Source: Midjourney
As we lit the candles and sang “Happy Birthday,” I noticed Bobby staring at us intently. When the song ended, he blew out the candles, and for the first time, he spoke.
“My parents are alive,” he said softly.
Jacob and I exchanged shocked glances, unsure if we’d heard him correctly.
“What did you say, sweetheart?” I asked, kneeling beside him.
He looked up at me and repeated the same words.
“My parents are alive.”
A close-up shot of a boy’s mouth as he speaks | Source: Pexels
I couldn’t believe my ears.
How could he know that? Was he remembering something? Had someone told him?
My mind raced, but Bobby said nothing more that night.
Later, as I tucked him into bed, he clutched his new stuffed dinosaur and whispered, “At the foster place, the grownups said my real mommy and daddy didn’t want me. They’re not dead. They just gave me away.”
His words broke my heart and made me curious about the foster home. Were his parents really alive? Why didn’t Mrs. Jones tell us this?
A woman standing in her house | Source: Midjourney
The next day, Jacob and I returned to the foster home to confront Mrs. Jones. We needed answers.
When we told her what Bobby had said, she looked uncomfortable.
“I… I didn’t want you to find out this way,” she admitted, wringing her hands. “But the boy is right. His parents are alive. They’re wealthy and, uh, they didn’t want a child with health issues. They paid my boss to keep it quiet. I didn’t agree with it, but it wasn’t my call.”
A woman talking to another woman | Source: Midjourney
“What health issues?” I asked.
“He wasn’t well when they abandoned him, but his illness was temporary,” she explained. “He’s all good now.”
“And the story about that note? Was it all made up?”
“Yes,” she confessed. “We made that story up because our boss said so. I’m sorry for that.”
A woman talking in her office | Source: Midjourney
Her words felt like a betrayal. How could someone abandon their own child? And for what? Because he wasn’t perfect in their eyes?
When we got home, we explained everything to Bobby in the simplest way we could. But he was adamant.
“I wanna see them,” he said, clutching his stuffed dinosaur tightly.
Despite our reservations, we knew we had to honor his request. So, we asked Mrs. Jones for his parents’ address and contact details.
A woman using her phone | Source: Pexels
At first, she didn’t allow us to contact them. But when we told her about Bobby’s situation and how he was so desperate to see them, she was compelled to change her decision.
Soon, we drove Bobby to his parents’ place. We had no idea how he’d react, but we were sure this would help him heal.
When we reached the towering gates of the mansion, Bobby’s eyes lit up in a way we’d never seen before.
As we parked our car and walked toward it, he clung to my hand and his fingers tightly gripped mine as if he’d never let go.
A child holding his mother’s hand | Source: Pexels
Jacob knocked on the door, and a few moments later, a well-dressed couple appeared. Their polished smiles faltered the second they saw Bobby.
“Can we help you?” the woman asked in a shaky voice.
“This is Bobby,” Jacob said. “Your son.”
They looked at Bobby with wide eyes.
“Are you my mommy and daddy?” the little boy asked.
The couple looked at each other and it seemed like they wanted to disappear. They were embarrassed and started explaining why they gave their child up.
A woman standing outside her house | Source: Midjourney
“We thought,” the man began. “We thought we were doing the right thing. We couldn’t handle a sick child. We believed someone else could give him a better life.”
I felt my anger rising, but before I could say anything, Bobby stepped forward.
“Why didn’t you keep me?” he asked, looking straight into his birth parents’ eyes.
“We, uh, we didn’t know how to help you,” the woman said in a shaky voice.
Bobby frowned. “I think you didn’t even try…”
A boy standing outdoors | Source: Midjourney
Then, he turned to me.
“Mommy,” he began. “I don’t want to go with the people who left me. I don’t like them. I want to be with you and Daddy.”
Tears filled my eyes as I knelt beside him.
“You don’t have to go with them,” I whispered. “We’re your family now, Bobby. We’re never letting you go.”
A woman looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney
Jacob placed a protective hand on Bobby’s shoulder.
“Yes, we’re never letting you go,” he said.
The couple said nothing except awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other. Their body language told me they were ashamed, but not one word of apology escaped their lips.
As we left that mansion, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace. That day, Bobby had chosen us, just as we had chosen him.
His actions made me realize we weren’t just his adoptive parents. We were his real family.
A boy smiling while holding his teddy bear | Source: Midjourney
Bobby flourished after that day, his smile growing brighter and his laughter filling our home. He began to trust us completely, sharing his thoughts, his dreams, and even his fears.
Watching him thrive, Jacob and I felt our family was finally complete. We loved it when Bobby called us “Mommy” and “Daddy” with pride.
And every time he did, it reminded me that love, not biology, is what makes a family.
My Therapy Client Is Angry His Wife Won’t Let Him Take Care of Their Son and I Was Shocked When I Found out Why — Story of the Day
As a psychologist, Kate often navigates the turbulent waters of troubled relationships. But when Colin’s case takes an unexpected twist, Kate finds herself breaking protocol and stepping into uncharted territory. What secrets lie behind Colin’s fractured family, and can Kate uncover the truth?
I was waiting for a new client, feeling a familiar curiosity and readiness. The man had mentioned over the phone that he was having some problems with his wife. As a psychologist, this was something I often encountered, so it was nothing unusual.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I glanced around my office, making sure everything was in place. The door opened, and I saw Colin, my new client. He was tall and looked a bit nervous.
“May I?” Colin asked, standing hesitantly at the door.
“Yes, of course, come in,” I said with a reassuring smile.
Colin walked in slowly, glancing around before settling on the couch opposite me. He looked nervous, his hands fidgeting in his lap.
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“So, what brings you here?” I asked, hoping to put him at ease.
“I already mentioned that I have problems with my wife,” he replied in a cold, defensive tone.
I could tell this would be a tough session. “I know, but why don’t you tell me more about it?”
Colin sighed, looking away. “She won’t let me take care of our son. She insists he’s only hers.”
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“And how does that make you feel?” I asked, watching his reaction closely.
“It hurts. He’s my son too,” Colin said, his voice tight with emotion.
I knew that hurt often masked deeper feelings, like anger. “Does it make you angry that you can’t spend time with your son?”
“No, I said it hurts,” he snapped, his frustration evident.
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Working with men often meant navigating their reluctance to admit feelings. “Have you tried talking to her about it?”
“Yes, but she ignores me. She says she regrets marrying me,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper.
“Why do you think she says that?” I asked, trying to understand the root of their issues.
“I don’t know. She keeps saying that our son is only hers and she will never have more children with me. We just had a baby. It should have brought us closer,” Colin said, his voice filled with confusion and pain.
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“Oh, so you have a newborn?” I asked, understanding more about their situation.
“Yes, he’s just a month old,” Colin replied, a hint of pride in his voice.
“I see. Some women have a hard time after childbirth and fall into a depressive phase. Could it be related?” I suggested, trying to explore all possibilities.
“No, she’s fine. She takes good care of our son,” he said, shaking his head.
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“And what did you mean when you said your wife doesn’t want more children with you?” I asked, sensing a deeper issue.
“She says it’s because I’m a bad father. But she doesn’t even give me a chance to be one,” Colin said, his frustration clear.
His wife’s behavior was strange. Usually, postpartum depression causes a woman to withdraw from everyone, including the child. “I understand your feelings. Can you recall any events that led to this period in your relationship?”
“Not really. Everything was fine. Though, she has this friend, Toby. They spend a lot of time together, and at some point, I even started doubting if the child is mine,” he admitted, his voice filled with insecurity.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“Are you against their communication?” I asked, trying to gauge his feelings.
“Of course, who would like their wife spending time with another man?” he said, his anger bubbling to the surface.
“Nowadays, friendships between men and women are quite common, and if there’s no hint of betrayal, I don’t think it’s worth stressing over,” I said, hoping to calm him.
“So, you think she’s cheating on me too?” he asked, his eyes narrowing.
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“That’s not what I meant at all,” I clarified, trying to steer the conversation back to his feelings.
“I don’t know, it all seems like cheating to me,” he muttered, more to himself than to me.
“Just because they communicate doesn’t mean she’s cheating,” I reiterated, but Colin seemed to ignore my words, twisting everything to fit his narrative. People often do that, living in illusions rather than facing the truth. However, I couldn’t understand what truth Colin was justifying.
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I glanced at the clock above the couch and realized our session was coming to an end. “Colin, I’m afraid we need to wrap up,” I said gently.
“But I haven’t covered everything. I thought one session would be enough,” Colin said, his frustration evident.
“Many think that, but it’s rarely true. Shall I book you for another session?” I offered, knowing he needed more time.
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“Yes, please,” he agreed, a bit of hope in his eyes.
We scheduled our next meeting for the following week, and I saw Colin out of my office. “Take care,” I said as he left. Colin just waved goodbye, his mind clearly elsewhere.
I returned to my office and sighed heavily. Some clients drained all my energy, but I loved my job, and it was part of it. So, I sat back in my chair and prepared for the next client, ready to help them navigate their own struggles.
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A week later, Colin was due to see me again. All week, his case had lingered in my mind. I had a nagging feeling that he wasn’t telling me everything.
“Come in,” I called out when Colin knocked on my door. He entered the office, moving slowly. He sat on the couch, avoiding eye contact.
“So, how have you been?” I asked, trying to gauge his mood.
“Same as before,” he replied, sighing. “She hardly talks to me. But she was very kind when Toby, that friend I mentioned, came over.”
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“Yes, I remember. How do you feel about that?” I asked, watching his face.
“I want to punch him,” Colin said, clenching his fists.
Anger can be useful if managed well, but I wasn’t sure Colin could handle it. “What does your wife say about it?” I asked, trying to understand more.
She says they’re just friends. But who calls just a friend to be at the birth?” he said, his voice rising
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This was interesting. “Can you tell me more about that?” I asked, leaning forward.
“My wife went into labor, but I couldn’t take her to the hospital because my mother had an accident, and I was going to pick her up from the hospital. It was nothing serious, but she was shaken. So I told my wife to call my sister, who lives 20-25 minutes away, to take her to the hospital.”
“Sorry to interrupt, but didn’t your wife also need to go to the hospital? Why didn’t you take her and then go together to your mother?” I asked, puzzled.
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“Because my mother lives in a neighboring town, and the hospital was there too,” Colin explained, a bit irritated.
“I see. Please continue,” I urged him gently.
“Instead of calling my sister, she called Toby because he supposedly lives closer,” Colin continued, his jaw tightening.
“And that’s why he was at the birth?” I asked, trying to piece it together.
“Yes,” Colin confirmed, his eyes flashing with anger.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
“How did you find out about it?” I asked.
“My sister also came to the hospital and recorded a video for me. I saw my wife holding Toby’s hand during contractions. When I brought my mother home, I asked my sister to FaceTime me. I saw Toby comforting my wife, doing everything a husband should do,” Colin said, his voice trembling.
“Why didn’t you go to the birth after taking your mother home?” I asked, sensing there was more to the story.
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“My mother said she felt unwell and asked me to stay,” Colin admitted, looking down.
So the mother comes first. That’s always a problem, I thought. When men put their mothers first, the marriage won’t last long. “And you decided to stay with her?” I asked, my tone neutral.
“Yes, and when I came the next day and visited my wife, she wouldn’t even let me hold our son. She said I didn’t deserve it,” Colin said, his voice cracking.
“How did you react?” I asked, giving him space to express his feelings.
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“I called her a cheater for having another man at our son’s birth,” Colin said, tears forming in his eyes.
“Do you think that was a good idea?” I asked softly.
“I don’t know, but it’s the truth. And she humiliated me in front of our relatives by saying I didn’t deserve to hold our son because I didn’t take her to the hospital. I’ve apologized a thousand times, but she still won’t let me near our son,” Colin said, his voice filled with despair.
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I nodded, letting Colin vent his frustrations. “I did everything for her, and she does this to me. She could have just called my sister, not Toby. Do you understand why I think she’s cheating on me? And I think that’s why she won’t let me take care of our son, because he’s not really mine,” Colin finished, his shoulders slumping.
I sat back, thinking about what Colin had shared. His pain was real, but his perception might be clouded by his anger and jealousy.
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I still felt he wasn’t telling me everything. We discussed the situation again, but I still couldn’t understand why his wife called another man to the birth. Maybe it was some form of revenge for Colin not coming.
After our session ended, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. For the first time in my career, I decided to break protocol. I left work, got in my car, and twenty minutes later, I stood in front of Colin’s house.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
I felt nervous and unsure, knowing this was unprofessional. But I also knew I had to talk to his wife to get a better understanding.
I knocked on the door, and after a moment, a tired woman with a baby in her arms opened it. She looked at me, puzzled.
“Excuse me, are you Colin’s wife?” I asked gently.
“Yes, I’m Emily,” she replied, her brow furrowing.
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“Nice to meet you. My name is Kate. I’m Colin’s psychologist, and I’d like to talk to you if you don’t mind,” I said, trying to put her at ease.
“Alright,” Emily replied, still looking confused. She led me to the living room, and we sat on the couch. The room was cozy, cluttered with baby items.
“I don’t want to beat around the bush, so I’ll get straight to the point. Colin mentioned that you won’t let him take care of your son,” I said, watching her reaction.
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“Well, I have my reasons. I don’t trust him, and I can’t trust him with my son,” Emily replied firmly.
“Is it because he didn’t come to the birth?” I asked, wanting to understand her perspective.
“Yes, even though I told him how important it was for me. Instead, he wanted his sister, who hates me and always belittles me, to be there. I didn’t want her there in such a vulnerable moment, but she came anyway,” Emily said, her voice shaking with emotion.
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This information changed everything. “I understand you, but maybe you could forgive him? I can suggest a family therapy session. After all, he wasn’t just sitting at home; he was helping his mother, who had an accident.”
Emily looked at me sharply. “Is that what he told you? He was helping his ex-girlfriend move because she was relocating.”
Oh my God, what a nightmare, I thought. This was why I decided to talk to Emily; I knew Colin wasn’t telling me everything. “Colin also complained that your friend was there,” I said, trying to remain neutral.
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“Toby, yes. We’ve been friends since third grade, and there’s never been anything romantic between us, but I trust him. That’s why I asked him to take me. Besides, he lives closer than Colin’s sister,” Emily explained.
“Have you tried talking to Colin about this?” I asked, feeling the tension in the room.
“I tried, but he doesn’t listen. He says he’s apologized a hundred times for not being at the birth. But he did it just to hear me say I’m not angry. I can’t trust my child to someone who doesn’t care about me. How can I know he cares about our son?” Emily said, tears welling up in her eyes.
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“Have you considered leaving?” I asked, sensing her desperation.
“I have, but I don’t have a job or money. I’m financially dependent on Colin,” Emily admitted, looking down.
“Did you know his sister was on FaceTime with Colin the whole time you were in labor?” I asked, feeling the need to share this piece of information.
“What? No, that’s horrible. I didn’t even notice her,” Emily said, her face paling.
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“Emily, if you really want to leave him, I can help you,” I said, offering her a lifeline.
“Really?” she asked, her eyes widening with hope.
“Yes, you can’t raise a child in such conditions,” I said firmly.
Half an hour later, Emily and her son’s belongings were in my car. I was glad I had come to see her and heard her side. I hoped I could help them find a better path.
The drive back to my office was quiet, but I felt a sense of purpose. This was why I became a psychologist, to help people like Emily find the strength to change their lives.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Midjourney
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If you enjoyed this story, read this one: One evening, I agreed to look after my best friend’s son, and that night changed my life forever. What I discovered made me see my surroundings in a completely different light. How can I now cope with the revelations that have shattered my trust in those closest to me? Read the full story here.
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