Back when I was 17, my gf Emily had our son – sadly, she didn’t make it
Posted on February 1, 2025 by admin
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Back when I was seventeen, my girlfriend, Emily, and I had a baby boy. We named him Jonathan. But only a few hours after he was born, Emily passed away from complications during childbirth. I was young, confused, and completely heartbroken. I didn’t know how to be a father. My parents, worried about my future, urged me to give the baby up for adoption. They said it was best for everyone. In my fragile state, I agreed. I signed the papers, and my son was taken away before I could fully understand what I was doing.

For a long time, I tried to push the memory out of my mind. Each time I saw a baby stroller or heard a child cry, I felt a sting in my heart. I grieved not only for Emily but also for the son I never got to hold. I never told anyone in my adult life about it, partly because I felt ashamed, partly because it was too painful to talk about. Over the years, I became certain I would never see my child again.

I’m twenty-seven now. A few months ago, I began volunteering as a little league baseball coach in my neighborhood. I wanted a way to connect with the community and use some of my free time for something positive. I’ve always loved baseball, so being around kids learning to swing a bat and catch a ball brought me a kind of peace I didn’t expect.

On the first day of practice, I greeted the team of small, energetic kids. Most of them were around nine or ten years old. They were bouncing with excitement, wearing oversized caps and dragging their baseball gloves in the dirt. I remember laughing at how the uniforms were too big for half of them, with sleeves flopping around their thin arms.

Then I noticed a boy named Robert. He had bright eyes, dark hair, and a quiet, focused look. Something about his face tugged at my memory. During drills, he tried his best, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he looked oddly familiar. I just couldn’t place why.

As the season went on, Robert stood out for more than just his looks. He was a left-handed hitter, just like me, and had a certain tilt of his head when he listened to instructions that reminded me of Emily. But I shrugged it off, thinking maybe I was imagining things, searching for pieces of my past that weren’t really there.

One day, after practice, Robert’s mom came to pick him up. I started chatting with her, giving a quick summary of how Robert was improving at the plate. She said, “Thanks, Coach. He’s really taken a liking to baseball. Funny thing is, he said you remind him of… well, he says you feel familiar to him in a way.”

I felt my heart skip a beat, but I tried to keep my composure. I smiled and told her I was just glad Robert was enjoying the sport. But inside, my mind was spinning. Could this kid be Jonathan? It sounded crazy. I told myself I was jumping to wild conclusions. Yet, I couldn’t ignore how he had Emily’s nose and my eyes.

I started to pay closer attention to him: the way he laughed, the shape of his smile, the curve of his ears. Each small detail hammered home the idea that he might be my biological son. The thought made me dizzy—was fate really bringing him back into my life?

Eventually, curiosity won out. I talked to Robert’s mom again, more seriously this time. I tried to be respectful and not scare her off. I simply said, “He reminds me of someone I used to know very well. I know this might sound strange, but is there any chance Robert was adopted?” She froze for a moment, startled. Then, with cautious eyes, she nodded. “Yes, we adopted him when he was just a newborn.”