I AM so happy that Mrs Spaulding has found her daughter after all these years. I was adopted at the age of four in 1947, into a loving family. All of them took me into their hearts as if I had been their own.

I was told that I was adopted and chosen right from the first day.

I had a friend that was told on her 21st birthday that she was adopted. She was studying to be a matron and engaged to be married, but she could not cope with this knowledge and committed suicide.

I was in my 30s when the government changed the law allowing adopted children to look for their family.

I had a friend that worked for the council and she advised me how to do this.

A gentleman came and after counselling, gave me my birth certificate, as this was the original one. The one that my mum had in bright red across the top was written Adopted Child. Even in their will at that time they had to put Adopted Child!

Things did change.

I found out that my biological mother had married, because my original birth certificate had been destroyed in a fire at the orphanage, so this one had her married and maiden names. I found out that I had an elder sister, a younger half brother and sister. I phoned my brother and asked him if he would like to meet me and he said that he would. He arranged for me to meet all of my family. There was a lot of animosity from my auntie and my younger sister as they did not know that I existed.

Mother had a child seven years before me and she was passed around the family.

Only three people knew of my existence. I think that my mother was getting married and her husband to be, did not know about me! This is why I was put up for adoption.

My younger half sister resented me because she had been so close to her mother and she had never told her about me.

She asked in an abrupt manner what I thought I would get out of this meeting, as mother had died at the age of 65.

I said that all I wanted was to learn about my biological family and my mother.

I replied that I was the lucky one to have been adopted into a family who all loved me and I loved them all in return. Sadly they have all passed over, but memories still remain.

The point of this letter is that not always can it turn out how you would have liked it too! I learnt nothing about my mother nor would my younger half-sister give me a photo of her, but my half-brother gave me his only one. I had not built up too much hope as I knew that it could go wrong. AND it did!

Janet Woodham Scotby Avenue Old Town, Swindon