I think I’m your daughter,’ I said.
The shocked woman pulled me into a tight embrace.
‘I’ve always thought of you,’ my birth mum, Janet, then 52, said.
Adopted as a newborn, I’d grown up in Griffith, NSW, and spent my life feeling like there was a hole in my heart.
I was close to my adopted brother Robert, then 27, but, at age 32, I was desperate to know where I came from.
When I was 10, I’d rifled through my adopted mum’s paperwork. I’d always known I was adopted.
But finding my adoption papers, I discovered
