Chilean Mom Reunites with Twins After 45 Years

Chilean Mom Reunites with Twins After 45 Years

In a world where time can sever the strongest bonds, sometimes fate and modern science come together to rewrite the ending. María Verónica Soto, a 64-year-old Chilean woman, finally reunites with her twin daughters, Maria Beatrice and Adelia Rose Mereu Chessa, after a heartbreaking 45-year separation. This emotional reunion in Concepción, Chile, isn't just a family milestone; it's a testimony to resilience during one of history's darkest times.

The story goes back to 1979, during General Augusto Pinochet's brutal dictatorship in Chile. Soto, then a young mother in Hualpén, took her eight-month-old twins for a routine check-up. What happened next was every parent's nightmare: officials claimed the babies needed more tests, accused Soto of neglect, and took them away. When she contacted the police, she found out her daughters had been declared abandoned, their birth certificates falsified, and they were already on their way to adoption abroad. Raised in Italy by adoptive parents who believed they were orphans, the twins grew up knowing their Chilean roots but without any memory of their birth mother.

This wasn't just an isolated tragedy. Under Pinochet, thousands of infants known as the "Children of Silence' were stolen from vulnerable families—often poor or politically targeted—and sold into international adoptions. Coerced by doctors, nuns, or authorities, mothers like Soto were silenced during a time when speaking out meant risking everything. "They listen to women now. Back then, they didn’t listen to mothers. We could not speak up in those years like we can now," Soto reflected, her words carrying the weight of decades of suppressed pain.

Hope flickered back to life in 2020 when Soto connected with Nos Buscamos, an NGO dedicated to reuniting illegally adopted children with their biological families. She submitted a DNA sample to an international database and waited years of quiet anticipation. The breakthrough came earlier this year when her grandson, curious about his heritage, took a DNA test. Matches lit up the system, leading to a whirlwind Facebook connection. Within 20 minutes, Soto was video-chatting with the daughters she'd never stopped searching for.

The reunion on September 10 turned Concepción's airport into a festival of tears and joy. As the twins, now 46, stepped off the plane, they rushed into Soto's embrace. "Momma always looked for you," she sobbed repeatedly, bridging the gap of lost time. Language barriers—Soto speaks no Italian, and her daughters are just learning Spanish—faded in the face of pure emotion. "So many emotions and very, very happy because we finally found our mother … we want to be with her, with the family, all the brothers, all the uncles, all the cousins, everybody!" shared Maria Beatrice.

For Soto, it felt like "giving birth to my daughters again, but in an adult version." Both sides believe the Italian adoptive family was deceived, unaware of the theft—a common theme in these cases. Amid the celebration, Soto stays aware of the many mothers still searching or who passed without closure. "I fought until I found my girls. That’s why I tell those mothers not to stop fighting. Knock on doors, because now there are more possibilities with technology," she urged.

This reunion highlights healing old wounds through persistence and innovation. In a story that mixes heartbreak with hope, Soto's family shows us that love, no matter how late, can overcome even the deepest divides. As they create new memories, their journey encourages others to keep searching for their own lost connections.