We adopted a girl no one wanted because of a birthmark. Twenty-five years later, a letter changed everything we thought we knew.
I’m Margaret, 75 now. My husband, Thomas, and I spent years trying for a child before doctors told us it wouldn’t happen. We grieved, adjusted, and told ourselves we were at peace—until a neighbor mentioned a little girl at a children’s home who’d been there since birth. No one adopted her because a large birthmark covered half her face.
We met Lily when she was five. She was polite, guarded, and asked Thomas if he would “die soon.” Even then, she expected to be left behind. The paperwork took months, but when it became official, she walked out with a backpack and a worn stuffed rabbit, asking if our house was really hers “for always.”
She spent years waiting for us to change our minds. School was hard. Kids were cruel. We told her often: You are not a monster. You belong.
Lily grew strong, confident, and determined. She became a doctor because she wanted children who felt different to know they weren’t broken.
After she graduated, a letter arrived from her biological mother. She’d been 17, forced by her parents to give Lily up, told no one would ever want a baby like her. She was sick now and only wanted Lily to know she’d been loved.
Lily met her. It didn’t fix everything—but it ended the wondering.
She no longer calls herself unwanted.
Now she knows she was wanted twice.