This happened to our reader when her birth mother, whom she had never met, showed up at her door needing help. She made a difficult choice that left her feeling guilty and now she\u2019s looking for advice on whether she did the right thing.\n\n

Her biological mother abandoned her right after birth.\n\n
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\u201cMy biological mom got pregnant when she was only 23 years old. Her boyfriend left her immediately after she told him about a child. She gave me up as soon as I was born because she believed having a child out of wedlock would ruin her chances of marrying and starting what she called a real family.\u201d\n
\u201cThe couple who adopted me were wonderful, loving people who raised me with all the care and support a child could need. When my adoptive mom told me the truth about my birth parents, I naturally wanted to connect with my birth mother. I called her one day to set up a meeting so we could get to know each other. But she refused, saying she already had children and that I had an adoptive mom, so we should just leave things as they are.\u201d\n
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30\u00a0years later, her mother changed her mind and appeared at\u00a0Amelia\u2019s doorstep.\n\n
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\u201cI\u00a0was 30\u00a0years old when\u00a0she showed up\u00a0on\u00a0my\u00a0doorstep, alone and homeless. I\u00a0could hardly believe the frail woman standing before\u00a0me, clutching a\u00a0tattered bag, was the same person who had given me\u00a0away.\u201d\n
\u201cNow, here she was, her eyes tired and pleading. \u2019Amelia,\u2019 she said, her voice cracking, \u2019I know this is\u00a0a\u00a0lot to\u00a0ask, but\u00a0I have no\u00a0one else. I\u2019ve lost everything.\u2019\u201d\n
\u201cI\u00a0stood there, trying to\u00a0process the situation. The woman who had once relinquished me\u00a0for the sake of\u00a0her future now had no\u00a0one else to\u00a0turn\u00a0to. I\u00a0felt a\u00a0swirl of\u00a0emotions\u00a0\u2014 anger, confusion, and a\u00a0reluctant sense of\u00a0responsibility.\u201d\n\n
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In\u00a0her most desperate moment, the woman remembered her daughter whom she had once abandoned.\n
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\u201c\u2019Why are you here?\u2019 I\u00a0finally asked, my\u00a0voice colder than I\u00a0intended.\u201d\n
\u201cShe took a\u00a0deep breath, and her gaze dropped to\u00a0the ground. \u2019My other children,\u2019 she said softly, \u2019but they\u2019ve all left.\u00a0They don\u2019t want anything to\u00a0do\u00a0with me\u00a0now that\u00a0I need help.\u00a0I\u00a0thought if\u00a0I could find you, maybe… maybe you\u2019d understand.\u2019\u201d\n
\u201cHer words hit me\u00a0hard. The thought of\u00a0siblings, who had turned their backs on\u00a0her, added a\u00a0new layer to\u00a0the complex emotions\u00a0I was feeling. She continued, \u2019I know\u00a0I wasn\u2019t there for you, but please I\u2019m desperate.\u00a0I\u00a0don\u2019t have anywhere else to\u00a0go.\u2019\u201d\n\n
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Amelia couldn\u2019t help but ask why her mother had decided to\u00a0leave her once.\n\n
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\u201cI\u00a0invited her\u00a0in, more out of\u00a0shock than sympathy, and made her a\u00a0cup of\u00a0tea. We\u00a0sat in\u00a0the small living room of\u00a0my\u00a0apartment, awkwardly avoiding each other\u2019s eyes.\u201d\n
“\u2019Why did you give me\u00a0up?\u2019 I\u00a0asked finally, needing to\u00a0understand her perspective.\n
Her hands trembled as\u00a0she held the warm cup. \u2019I was young, scared, and alone. I\u00a0thought\u00a0I was doing the right thing for both of\u00a0us.\u00a0I\u00a0wanted to\u00a0marry and have a\u00a0stable family, and\u00a0I thought no\u00a0man would want a\u00a0woman with a\u00a0child from another relationship. I\u00a0thought you\u2019d have a\u00a0better chance with a\u00a0family who could give you everything\u00a0I couldn\u2019t.\u2019\n
\u201c\u2019And did you?\u2019 I\u00a0asked a\u00a0sharp edge in\u00a0my\u00a0voice. \u2019Did you get the family you wanted?\u2019\u201d\n
\u201cHer eyes filled with tears. \u2019For a\u00a0while, yes. I\u00a0got married and had children, but things didn\u2019t turn out as\u00a0I\u00a0hoped. My\u00a0husband left, and\u00a0I lost everything.\u2019\u201d\n\n
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Amelia faced a\u00a0difficult moral choice: whether to\u00a0help her mother or\u00a0not.\n\n
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\u201cI\u00a0could see the regret etched on\u00a0her face, but it\u00a0did little to\u00a0soothe my\u00a0feelings. \u2019So now you come to\u00a0me, hoping I\u2019ll do\u00a0what?\u00a0Take care of\u00a0you because you have nowhere else to\u00a0go?\u2019\u201d\n
\u201cShe nodded, her eyes filled with desperation. \u2019I know\u00a0I don\u2019t deserve\u00a0it.\u00a0I\u00a0know\u00a0I have no\u00a0right to\u00a0ask, but\u00a0I don\u2019t know what else to\u00a0do.\u2019\u201d\n
\u201cI\u00a0looked at\u00a0her, this woman who was both a\u00a0stranger and a\u00a0part of\u00a0me. The anger and hurt\u00a0I felt clashed with a\u00a0reluctant compassion. I\u00a0thought of\u00a0my\u00a0parents, who had taken me\u00a0in\u00a0and given me\u00a0everything, and wondered what they would want me\u00a0to\u00a0do.\u201d\n
\u201c\u2019Stay here tonight,\u2019 I\u00a0said finally. \u2019We\u2019ll talk more in\u00a0the morning.\u2019\u201d\n
\u201cThat night, as\u00a0I lay in\u00a0bed, I\u00a0couldn\u2019t help but think about the family\u00a0I had grown up\u00a0with and the one\u00a0I never knew. The woman in\u00a0the next room had made a\u00a0decision that altered both of\u00a0our lives and now, decades later, she was asking me\u00a0for help.\u201d\n\n
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Amelia couldn\u2019t shake the feeling of\u00a0guilt about her decision.\n\n
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\u201cIn\u00a0the morning, as\u00a0we\u00a0sat across from each other at\u00a0the breakfast table, I\u00a0decided to\u00a0extend her a\u00a0lifeline.\u00a0I\u00a0would help her with money and find her place to\u00a0stay and get back on\u00a0her feet, but\u00a0I can\u2019t let her stay in\u00a0my\u00a0house to\u00a0protect my\u00a0well-being.\u00a0Our relationship, whatever it\u00a0might become, would take time and effort from both of\u00a0us.\u201d\n
\u201cShe looked at\u00a0me\u00a0with a\u00a0mixture of\u00a0gratitude and guilt. \u2019Thank you,\u2019 she said, her voice barely above a\u00a0whisper. \u2019I know it\u2019s not easy, and\u00a0I don\u2019t deserve your kindness.\u2019\u201d\n
\u201cDespite being confident in\u00a0my\u00a0decision,\u00a0I\u00a0can\u2019t shake the guilt of\u00a0not letting her stay live at\u00a0my\u00a0house. She offered to\u00a0help with anything around the house, like cleaning and cooking, saying she wanted to\u00a0make up\u00a0for lost time. She asked about my\u00a0life before we\u00a0met. On\u00a0the whole, she seems lonely and eager to\u00a0reconnect with\u00a0me. But I\u00a0can\u2019t stop thinking that she left me\u00a0and only returned when she needed help. I\u00a0would like to\u00a0hear your advice on\u00a0whether\u00a0I did the right thing in\u00a0this situation.\u201d\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
This happened to our reader when her birth mother, whom she had never met, showed up at her door needing help. She made a difficult choice that left her feeling guilty and now she\u2019s looking for advice on whether she did the right thing. Her biological mother abandoned her right after birth. \u201cMy biological mom …\n","protected":false},"author":30,"featured_media":73888,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-73886","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/73886","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/30"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=73886"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/73886\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":73892,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/73886\/revisions\/73892"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/73888"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=73886"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=73886"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/echowoven.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=73886"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}