Forced to give up my baby – Reunited after 50 years
Pauline Pedder, 65, longed to meet the daughter she’d been forced to give up
Sitting in class, I felt a strong kick inside my belly. Aged 14, I was ve months pregnant – and too terri ed to tell my parents.
With me and my eight siblings to look after, they’d been too busy to notice my growing tummy.
‘Why don’t we just run away together,’ my boyfriend, John, 15, said.
Though it seemed like a fairytale ending, we were just kids. It wouldn’t work.
Before long, rumours swirled around school.
When my headmaster found out the truth, the cat was out of the bag. My father was so angry. ‘If you’re having a baby, you won’t be bringing it here,’ he said.
Forbidding me to leave the house, he insisted the baby would be adopted, despite my sister Carol, then 24, offering to raise it. Though I could tell Mum felt sorry for me, Dad had put his foot down. Unable to go out, I lost contact with John.
I hope Dad changes his mind, I thought, feeling devastated.
But, when I was eight months along, I was sent to a mother and baby home until I gave birth.
In October 1969, I went into labour with only a midwife by my side. Then I pushed a beautiful baby girl into the world.
Naming her Louise, I was in love. But, when my parents came to visit, Dad refused to even look at me.
Handing my tiny girl to Mum for a cuddle, I begged her to change Dad’s mind. But it was no use.
Over the next four weeks, my bond with Louise only grew as I spent time nursing and caring for her.
After she was adopted by another family, it was time for me to say goodbye to my bub.
‘When you grow up, I hope that we meet again and remember each other,’ I cried, heartbroken.
Back home, I tried to move on with my life.
At 16, I married a man named Steve and together we welcomed four children, Tracie, Steven, Samantha and Stephanie.
I told them all about their big sister.
‘I was very young and couldn’t look after her,’ I explained.
Still, I never forgot Louise. Is she happy? I wondered, as time passed. Has she got married and had kids of her own?
Then, in
April 2019, Samantha, then 45, told me her daughter, Annabelle, 19, had reached out to a TV show that helps reunite families.
‘I want to nd my sister,’ Samantha said to me.
Incredibly, they got back to Annabelle right away.
So I agreed to tell them what I knew – Louise’s birthdate, name and where she’d been adopted from.
‘We would love to help you nd your
daughter,’ they told me.
I was ecstatic, but I tried not to get my hopes up. Then, ve months later, lming began and I was told some incredible news – my precious Louise had been found.
Her name was now Carol.
Just like my big sister! I smiled.
I couldn’t believe that after 50 long years my little girl had been found.
Adopted by a local family, Carol lived just a 10-minute walk from the house where I’d grown up. But there was more… ‘Your daughter has been following you on Facebook for three years,’ I was told.
I was gobsmacked. I’d only joined Facebook as a way to keep up to date with family news. I never imagined that my long-lost daughter had been keeping up with me all along.
After nding out my name, she’d hit the ‘follow’ button on my pro le, so she’d seen any photos I’d posted publicly, but without us being friends or me knowing. She’d even taken a screenshot of my pro le picture to keep on her phone.
When the show’s host handed me a picture of her, I welled up.
With the same-shaped eyes and matching noses, Carol looked just like me.
The following week, we met in a local cafe.
I was nervous at rst, but as soon as Carol walked in, tears sprang to my eyes.
Wrapping my arms around my girl for the rst time in more than ve decades, I felt so warm and happy inside.
It’s like I’ve swallowed sunshine, I beamed.
‘I was scared to reach out to you in case you didn’t want to hear from me,’ my daughter told me.
But now, it was like
Carol had always been a part of my life.
Proudly, she showed me photos of her husband, two adult children and granddaughter, Lacey, then 18 months.
‘I can’t believe I’m a great-grandmother,’ I smiled.
Then, I gave Carol a bracelet with ve little charms, to symbolise her and my four younger kids.
It was so hard to believe we’d lived so close all those years. Had we passed each
It’s hard to believe we’d lived so close
other at the shops?
Now, ve months on,
I feel like the luckiest woman on Earth. We’re always in touch, and my now-husband, Bruce, and Carol’s siblings welcomed her with open arms.
Giving up my daughter all those years ago was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I’ve nally got my fairytale ending. ●