I Prayed for a Child and Promised to Adopt a Baby—17 Years Later, That Promise Almost Broke Us

Ruth went to prom without me. She packed a bag. She left.

Weeks passed. Then months.

I wrote letters she didn’t answer. I sent messages she didn’t read. I learned how to breathe through a new kind of grief—the loss of a child who was still alive.

Then one evening, my phone rang.

“Mom?” Ruth’s voice was small.

She had found the adoption file by accident while helping a counselor with paperwork. Inside was a letter I had written years ago, sealed and forgotten.

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