Dearest Christopher,

You were born in mid to late December, 1984, in the Northern Territory of Australia to my younger sister, Diane. I think it was on the 20th or 21st. The day Diane told me of her pregnancy, I longed to take you in and raise you, but Diane decided you should be adopted into an unrelated family. 

I saw your baby photos taken in the hospital with my sister holding you. You were so beautiful. 

"You will agree to see him when he grows up, won't you?" I asked, wondering how she could possibly give you up after spending three days holding and nursing you.

"Of course," she replied. "I've written him a letter. He will get it when he turns eighteen. The family who is adopting him, agreed to call him Christopher."

Several years slipped by and soon I was raising my own children. I often wondered if you looked like them. The day I held my newborn son, Daniel, I thought of you and cried. I could only cling to the hope you were happy with a family who loved and cherished you. Every Christmas, every birthday, my heart ached to know how you were doing.

My sister married and after many years, decided to try and have a baby. After suffering several late miscarriages, she and her husband gave up. 

"I guess I'm not ever going to be a mother," she said, a bitter edge in her voice.

Heart thumping, I asked, "What about Christopher? He's still your son. Now he is eighteen, are you going to try and find him?" Several times after your birth, I found her sitting on the front porch of our parent's house, crying because she missed you so much.

"No," she said. "I told him in the letter never to try and find me."

I pleaded. "What if he has medical issues? What if he wonders about his biological background? What if he just wants to know?"

"My husband would never accept another man's child," she said.

Nothing would change her mind. I can't make excuses for her. I don't understand and I never will. Your biological grandmother, Nan, died four years ago, still longing to meet you. She was so sad when she learned of Diane's letter. You were her very first grandchild.

I've tried different adoption groups on-line, in the hope of locating you, but it seems near impossible unless God works a miracle to bring us together. Your uncle, John, would love to meet you, too. Although I live with my husband and children in the United States, the rest of our family is still in Australia.

I dream of meeting you one day, of knowing the answers to all the questions floating around in my heart. Are you happy? What do you do for fun? Your job? Did they treat you well? What do you like? What do you hate? Would you like to meet all your cousins? Is there anything you need to know or would like to know about your biological background? Do you know how much I love you?

After Nan died in 2004, my father (your grandfather) remarried. My step-mother's daughters are both adopted and neither of them have ever tried to find their biological families. Perhaps you have no desire to make contact. I won't know until I find you.

Even if I find you and you choose not to meet us, at least you will know how much you've been loved and missed all the years of your life. 

With much love,
Auntie Jan