Hello, everybody! My name is Heidi. I am sixteen years old and I've got two mothers. How is that even possible? Let me tell you, it's a long story. So, I was actually born in Boston and my mother
had a really difficult delivery. I was alright, but she lost a lot of blood
and slipped into a coma. The doctors couldn't manage to find either
my father or any of my other relatives and they couldn't make any predictions about my
mother's condition either. So they had no option but to give me to a
foster family. They agreed that I would live with them until
my mother woke up from her coma, if she did. But years went by, I turned six years old,
but it still hadn't happened. My foster mom and dad didn't tell me that
I wasn't their real daughter, so I lived a happy life with my beloved mommy and daddy
in a small town in Minnesota. I couldn't have wished for a better family,
until... It was my father's birthday. and we had a
big party at home with all of our friends, a barbeque, and fireworks. We were having so much fun! My father's phone was ringing off the hook
because there were so many people who wanted to wish him a happy birthday. But then, there was another call. My father picked up his phone merrily, expecting
another greeting, but then the smile was wiped from his face. He went pale. I was really worried, but he said that everything
was fine. After the party my parents went to their room
and shut the door. I tried to eavesdrop, but I couldn't make
out what they were talking about because they were whispering, but then my mom burst into
tears. That was far too frightening for me, so I
knocked on the door and asked my parents to let me in and to tell me what was going on. And then they told me the truth. They told me about my real mother and her
coma and about the phone call. My foster dad was informed that my mother
had woken up from the coma and after a little treatment she would be ready to have her daughter
back, as agreed. I was absolutely dejected. I begged my parents to not give me back, I
think I'd cried my eyes out, but there was nothing we could do about it. So, in a couple of weeks my parents took me
back to Boston. My real mother met us at the airport. She looked very nice and friendly and she
immediately started crying when she saw me. But I didn't feel anything at all. I was squeezing my foster mom's hand and didn't
want to let it go. We all went to a cafe and walked around town. My mother tried to make conversation with
me, but I never said a word. Soon the moment to say farewell had come. My parents spent one night with us, but when
I woke up in the morning, they were not there! There was only a little note on the table. It said: Always remember... And there was a little picture of us all together. So, I was left alone in that new city with
that unknown woman, who I was supposed to call mom now. She brought me to my new home, which was really
cozy, and there was a separate room for me with a bed, and new clothes and toys. My mother did her best to get along with me. She cooked, showed me around town, took me
to the zoo, she would buy me anything I would ask for, and I started to like her actually,
but... I really missed my family. Once I worked up the courage and asked her
if I could visit my home in Minnesota, but she wouldn't let me. She said that she realized it was hard, but
it would be better for me to not communicate with my foster mom and dad for my own good. She said we had to turn over a new leaf together. I got really mad! I wanted to go home so badly that I decided
to run away. I packed my little suitcase and headed for
the hills. I googled the way to the bus station, it happened
to be not that far away from the place we lived. Of course, I got caught and brought back after
I'd tried to buy a one-way ticket to my hometown. My mother was in despair. And she made the worst decision ever. She decided to move to another state in the
south without even letting my foster family know about it. It turned out that my grandparents lived there,
but my mother hadn't spoken to them for years. They knew nothing about her coma or about
me. She also forbade me to call or to email my
foster mom and dad and wouldn't give me their contact information. The only thing I had was that family picture. Even though it looked like a happy ending
- my grandparents were so happy to see me and to finally make up with their daughter
after so many years, I never stopped thinking about my family in Minnesota. It's been a while. I became a teenager, I went to school, and
had a lot of friends there. I loved my grandparents to bits, but not my
mother. She was strict and I was never allowed to
do anything. I wasn't a good student and she would always
punish me for bad grades. We had fights and arguments all the time. I started to hate her. And for me she still remained the person who
had taken me away from my beloved foster parents. I didn't know anything about them, there was
no way that I could contact them. I sent paper letters to my home address in
Minnesota hoping that they would be delivered, but I never got an answer. I didn't want to believe that the people who
loved me and cared about me for so many years could forget about me so easily. There must have been something that was preventing
them from writing me back. And I thought my mother was the one to blame. I thought things couldn't get worse, until
that day. My friend told me he was throwing a slumber
party because his parents had gone away, so he invited me and all my friends over. I asked my mom if I could go, but of course
I got a no. She said I had to improve my grades first
and then I could think about parties. It didn't stop me though. When everybody went to sleep, I climbed out
the window and went to the party. My friends and I had a great time there, but
when I showed up at home in the morning, my mother was waiting for me in my room. She was furious. We had the worst fight ever! We kept going at each other, when I finally
said: You are not my mother and you never will be. I am going to leave school and go back home
to my real parents. She didn't say anything and quietly left the
room stone-faced. Later that evening somebody knocked on my
door. It was my grandpa. He has been my best friend and support all
these years. He told me that it was not reasonable and
smart to leave school just to annoy my mom. He said that we had both suffered a lot and
had hard times, but we had to try to understand and accept each other. He also revealed why my mother had left him
and my grandma so many years ago. She got pregnant and my grandma and grandpa
were against the baby, against me! My grandpa said how much he regretted his
behavior. So, my mother made up her mind to leave and
to raise her baby all alone. Her boyfriend didn't support her either. So, she left college, because she had to work
to earn a living and didn't even get a proper education in the end. That is why she cares about my studies so
much. Now I was very ashamed of myself. I have never thought about all those difficulties
my mother had to go through in her life. I went up to her the next morning and apologized
for my words. I promised not to leave school and to improve
my grades. I asked her why she had never told me her
story. She wrapped me in a big hug and said that
she was so sorry about what had happened to both of us. She also said it was bad of her to not let
me get in touch with my foster family, because it had made things much worse. And then she handed me a ticket. A ticket to Minnesota! I couldn't believe my own eyes. I was going home! Unfortunately, neither me nor my mother managed
to find any contacts with my foster mom and dad. It's been so many years. So I sent one more paper letter home and started
off, hoping for a miracle. I arrived at the airport, but nobody met me
there. Anyway, I had the address and found my house
easily. It didn't take me much time to recognize it. And it looked exactly the same. I was immediately flooded with memories from
my childhood. I was standing at the front door with my heart
beating, not being able to ring the doorbell for a long time. And then I did. A beautiful woman opened the door and I was
sure I didn't know her. I asked her about my parents. She heaved a deep sigh and let me in. She gave me some tea and told me the whole
story. It turned out that after my real mother took
me away from my foster mom and dad, everything went wrong. They started arguing and blaming each other
every day. It was their first experience in adopting
children and it turned out to be a far too painful one and it all led them to a painful
divorce. My foster mother left and nobody knew where
she was. She probably moved to another country. My father married again and that very woman
was his new wife and they had a baby. So, I kind of had a little sister now. But a couple of years ago my dad died in a
car accident. I was devastated. It seemed like I was bad luck for everyone
I loved. His new wife showed me around the house. I got acquainted with my little sister, who
now lived in my room. When I was leaving, I asked the woman about
the letters I had been sending all those years. She said that it was a mutual decision of
both of my families to not get in touch with each other. They thought it would be better for me to
keep going. She also confessed she had been hiding my
letters, because she thought it would be too painful for my foster dad to read them, not
having the right to answer back. It all made sense now. I left the house and went to his grave. Then I visited all the places I used to love
in my town. I went to the park where I used to play tennis
with my dad and to the cafe where my mom would always get me the most delicious ice cream
in the world. And I came back home with nothing, on one
hand. But on the other, my soul was finally at peace. I visited my hometown to find out that there
was no home for me anymore. That was the truth that I had to find out. But I know I have my loving family who is
there for me and waiting for me. Of course, the news that my foster father
had passed away broke my heart. And I still don't have any information about
my foster mom. I hope I will be able to find her someday. This trip helped me to calm down and to accept
everything that had happened to me and both of my families. I started to spend more time with my mother
and we are on good terms with each other now. I feel I have a place I belong again. Have you ever faced anything like this? How did you get over it? If you did, I would be very happy to read
your stories in the comments. And If you have any advice about how I can
possibly find my foster mom, please let me know. Yours truly, Heidi.
