I planned a road trip with my mom to reconnect after years apart. It was supposed to be peaceful and nostalgic but an accident sent me to the hospital. That’s where I overheard a doctor say something shocking: my mom wasn’t my biological mother. My world stopped as the truth I never imagined unraveled before me.
Devastated, I confronted her, but before she could explain, I collapsed. My weak heart something I inherited from my “dad” was failing fast. I woke up briefly, only to hear them say I needed a transplant immediately. Everything was slipping away, and I thought it was the end.
But I woke up again with a new heart. My dad sat beside me, crying, and told me the impossible: Mom had sacrificed herself so I could live. Her heart was now beating inside me. I could barely process it as he handed me her final letter, addressed “To my daughter.”
In her letter, she said I was always hers, no matter biology. She had loved me like her own from the moment we met. I cried, knowing I never got to say goodbye but also knowing she already knew I loved her. She didn’t just raise me she saved me. And I’ll live each day for her.