I always dreamed of having kids, but life didn’t go the way I planned. After years of hoping and waiting, I realized maybe my path was meant to be different. That’s when I met Joey, a little boy who needed a home just as much as I needed him. From the moment he reached for my hand, I knew I was finally a mom.

A week after Joey moved in, I planned his FIRST REAL BIRTHDAY. I wanted it to feel special—balloons, pancakes, presents carefully picked out just for him. We laughed in the kitchen, making a total mess, and for a moment, I thought he finally felt safe.

But when he opened his gift, his smile faded. By the time we sat down with the cake, HE WASN’T EVEN LOOKING AT ME! Just staring at the candle like it wasn’t real…

I nudged the plate toward him, waiting for that little spark of joy. Instead, he looked up, eyes full of something I couldn’t place. And that’s when he said it, quiet but sharp enough to break me:

“My birthday was YESTERDAY.”

“But… the documents say it’s today,” I whispered.

“They made a MISTAKE. It’s my brother’s…” he answered.

My heart stopped. “Wait. Your BROTHER??”

He was silent for a moment, then finally added,

“YOU HAVE TO SEE SOMETHING.”

Then, he reached under his pillow and pulled out a small wooden box. He opened it and took out a folded piece of paper, handing it to me.

I looked at it… and oh my God!

On that paper was a hand-drawn picture of two little boys, side by side. They both had huge smiles, like they were laughing about some shared secret. One of the boys was clearly Joey—same messy brown hair and round face. The other had a streak of red in his hair and a taller stature. Above their heads, Joey had drawn two crudely sketched balloons with different dates written on them. He pointed to one balloon on the left. “That’s me,” he mumbled. Then he pointed to the balloon on the right. “That’s him.”

In one corner of the drawing was a tiny heart with the initials “J + N.” It took me a second to realize that “N” stood for Nathan, a name I’d never heard before. I didn’t even know Joey had a sibling. The adoption agency hadn’t mentioned a brother—or if they did, the detail never surfaced in all that paperwork.

“That’s your brother?” I asked, trying to keep my voice gentle. Joey nodded, blinking fast. He didn’t cry, but I could sense the tears he was holding back. “Where is he?”

Joey’s lips trembled for a moment. “I… I don’t know. They told me he was going to a different family. He’s six, and… we got separated.”

The words hit me like a heavy weight. My son—my newly adopted little boy—had gone through more trauma than I could imagine. Not only did he lose his home and face the uncertainty of foster care, but he also had a brother who was taken away from him. No wonder the date mix-up hurt him. I felt a sting of guilt because I’d been so focused on giving him a special day, I hadn’t dug deeper into his history.

I asked Joey softly, “So… your real birthday was yesterday, and Nathan’s is today?”

He nodded. “We used to celebrate them together,” he explained. “We’d get two cakes. His was chocolate; mine was always vanilla. But when we came into the system, it all got messed up.”

My heart ached. “I’m sorry,” I said, taking his small hand in mine. “I wish I had known. I want to make this right.”

He looked up at me with a glimmer of hope. “Really?”

I nodded. “I promise.”

That night, after tucking Joey into bed and sitting beside him until he fell asleep, I found myself on the phone with the adoption agency’s after-hours service. It took forever to get any kind of answer. The file had minimal information, and apparently, Nathan had been placed in a different facility several months ago. The best lead they could give me was the name of a social worker I could call in the morning.

I was exhausted, but I felt determined. If Nathan was out there, I needed to give Joey the chance to see him again—at least once. Maybe it wasn’t possible for me to adopt them both (or maybe it was?), but I had to try to contact Nathan’s guardians. Joey shouldn’t have to go through life feeling like a piece of him was missing.