While Working as a Private Detective, I Took a Case That Revealed a Shocking Truth About Me – Story of the Day

I was hired to find a man’s birth mother—a routine case, or so I thought. But as I dug deeper, I uncovered something unexpected.

Matt walked into my office, nervous and uncertain. He wanted to find the woman who gave birth to him. All he had was a birthdate and a city. When he told me his birthdate—November 19, 1987—my stomach twisted. It was my birthday too.

Digging through hospital records, I found a hidden file: “Newborns Who Were Abandoned.” Two names. Matt. And me. Both mothers named Carla. One had a last name. The other had none.

Tracking down Matt’s mother, I met a woman with familiar features. She admitted to abandoning her son, haunted by regret. But she also revealed a truth I never expected—she had arrived at the hospital with another woman, a stranger in labor. My mother. A woman with no records, no last name.

“She died in childbirth,” Carla whispered. “But she wanted you. She only thought about you.”

For years, I believed I was unwanted. Now, I knew the truth. I visited her unmarked grave, tracing the letters of her name. She had fought for me but never got the chance.

That night, I drove past Carla’s house. Through the window, I saw Matt in her arms, finally home. I couldn’t find my own mother, but at least I had given someone back theirs.