Oh Micah. There are no words to even begin to describe how epic a moment we had and never knew it. I simply say, “I…know.”

Tears and sobs overtake my weary body, I’m a mess, and once again, I’m totally broken. Lost and hurt at the hands of my parents. Just when I thought they could never top how much they’ve hurt me…they do again.

“Did you ever file it legally?” My overactive mind takes over, wondering just how legal this adoption actually is.

“No,” my mom says, shaking her head. “We did it under the table but did write up a hand written contract. We thought it would work.”

“Wow, you people disgust me. Trust me when I tell you that Elsa will no longer have anything to do with you.” He’s standing gathering his coat at the same time pulling me, to get the hell out of here. I’m sure he’s already thought of ten different ways to take out my parents, but they’re not worth it.

“Now wait…” My dad is standing pointing his finger.

“He’s right, I’m done.”

I have no fight left in me. Going on six years with my parents of living this elaborate lie, is just too much of a pill to swallow. They have damaged me for the last time.

Micah storms out the front door with his phone in his hand. I’m sure he’s calling his dad. With the connections he has, he will know what to do.

“I’m taking the letters and photos, you don’t deserve them.” There is no way I’m leaving them with any of these things. This makeshift contract is the only thing I have that this farce of an adoption even exists.

“Wait…that’s my grandso…” My mother starts to say.

“Don’t you even finish that sentence! He’s nothing to you just like I’m nothing to you. He’s mine, he always was mine.” I spit out every word with venom.

Micah comes barreling back in the house, pulling at me and this time, making sure I leave this God forsaking house for good. I stayed back, making sure to grab all of the envelopes as Micah went out with his phone. On the way out the door, Micah makes it known his parents would be in contact. He also told them to never contact me again. If they ever did, it would not be pretty, he’d make sure of it.

TWO WEEKS HAD passed since that day in my parent’s living room. Tonight we’re at Micah’s parents’ house for a family meeting. Matt and Tyler were already here by the time we showed up. A short time later the Taylor’s lawyer, Mr. Hamilton, showed up. I’m not sure if I’m more elated or scared, watching his less than animated reactions. He gives nothing away, a mild eyebrow raise here and there, all the while intently taking notes.

I had to share the whole story with the many letters and pictures I took from my parents. Matt takes it pretty hard, knowing this is his nephew. Skylar, Micah’s mom, has been crying, but shows excitement knowing we’ve actually found him.

I kept quiet most of the night, just looking at Michael’s pictures. His changes from infant to toddler were incredible to see. I’m thanking my lucky stars I even get the chance to see them at all. The resemblance to Micah was unbelievable. I can’t believe I didn’t see it that night I held him. When he opened his eyes, the familiar baby blues should have been my first clue. Who knew?

After that night, we’ve all tried to live our lives as normal as possible. The Taylor’s lawyer told us not to contact the Mitchell’s ourselves, to let his firm handle things going forward. Knowing the whole adoption was not legal in the eyes of the law, he said he might be able to scare them into handing him back to us with no issues. It was a long shot, but we were willing to do whatever was necessary to get Michael back.

I no longer held onto the idea that I would just let him be with his adopted family. Knowing all the facts now, they don’t deserve him. I’ve never forgotten him, and now I won’t stop fighting for him.

It happens that luck may be on our side. Mr. Hamilton, called, wanting to schedule an appointment for us to come talk with him about the progress he has made since we last spoke. Wednesday after work, Matt, Micah and I met his parents at Mr. Hamilton’s office.

Sitting at a long conference table, another gentleman, Mr. Reid, was also present. He explained he was working alongside Mr. Hamilton on what he called “a most sensitive case.” Micah holds my hand in his as we sit quietly, his dad’s taking the driver’s seat, and asking the tough questions.

“We have several things in our favor with regards to the ‘adoption’ that took place.” Mr. Hamilton flips through his stack of papers. Pushing his glasses higher up on his nose, as he begins to walk us through all he has learned.

From what I’ve seen so far, Micah’s mom, Skylar was a strong woman who loved her family fiercely. I see this first hand as tears of hope fill her eyes, her once look of loss when we spoke that one night is now edging on hope. Now that there is a possibility that she may get to see her only grandson grow up. Looking at her, I get a real look how a mother should act, loving her family and stopping at nothing to get what her family needs and wants.

Once again, I can’t believe all of this pain and suffering is at the hands of my mother and father. The old saying you can pick your friends but you can’t choose your family? Pretty much.

Lost in my thoughts, I don’t realize I’m crying. My face shows no emotion. I should be listening, but I just can’t find it in me to concentrate. When I happen to look up, I realize, all eyes are centered on me.

“I’m sorry.” Not sure if they asked me a question or what I’ve missed.

“Oh dear, you have nothing to be sorry for. We are all worried about you honey, that’s all.” Skylar holds her hand over her heart. Her face tightens and fresh tears descend once again. I’m astonished with the love this lady has for everyone around her.

“Baby, you okay?” Micah asks.

Looking up into his comforting baby blues, I lay my head on his arm, nodding my answer. Kissing my head, Micah reaches around the chair and pulls me against him. We stay seated like this for the rest of the hour.

We learned several things at this meeting. For starters, their contract was not legally binding and would not hold up in court for a number of reasons. My parental rights were never terminated in the eyes of the law. Micah’s parental rights weren’t terminated either. Nor had either one of us signed our right’s away, voluntarily. The hand written contract between my parents and the Mitchell’s would be considered a high risk in the legal system. We were informed every state had their set of rules when it came to adoptions.

In our case, it appears not all legal requirements were ever established, and that alone gives Mr. Hamilton, and Mr. Reid hope we will win this case. Micah’s dad had contacted a few of his friends who were circuit court judges and was pushing hard to make sure we had the letter of the law on our side. He was adamant that no stone be left unturned. Having friends in high places does have its advantages.

Leaving the law office, Micah and I headed home holding on the hope that we’d get Michael. Not only are we just back together, but now we might be parents. Are we ready? Can we do this?

“Micah, are we ready to raise our child?” I ask, panicking with the doubts my parents have drilled in my mind over the years.

“Babe, we will do whatever it takes. We may be young, and just finding our way back to one another, but after I found out I had a son, I could not stop thinking about him.” Pulling the car over on the side of the road, he puts it in the park and sits back, looking ahead at the road. “If I never would have left, we would be the ones raising him. It literally kills me knowing that even though we created him, he’s living with strangers, and not us.”