I don't know if this qualifies as the kind of story you want but it's definitely a coincidence and it happened to me. My mother passed away about 7 years before I finally met the person I was going to settle down with (by this time, I was in my 40's). My mother and I had always been close, I was her only daughter and when her life began ebb, we spent many hours together with me gently brushing her hair to offer her some relief from her unrelenting pain. I remember cradling her head in my lap and using my finger to trace a small "port wine" stain (a birthmark) at the back of her neck, just under the hairline as I massaged her head.

As our relationship grew and developed, my partner and I decided that we wanted to find a child that we could adopt. We spent just about 2 years looking for a child and finally met a woman who wanted to develop an adoption plan with us. It was a difficult time for everyone, so many things going on, so much emotion and such a lot of drama. Our son's birthmother came to live with us in our tiny home for the last months of her pregnancy. As happens so often with pregnancy, our son's mom was getting more miserable as her due date approached. She was ready to begin the next chapter of her life and we were ready to begin our family. My only, my biggest regret was that my mother would never know the joy and happiness and security I had found with my partner and soon, our new baby.

In the middle of the night, our son's birthmom went into labor and she and I went to the hospital together. She had an unplanned c-section and I was given the great honor of cutting our son's cord and being the first non-medical person to hold him because his birthmom was under sedation for another medical procedure that was happening. I was a mother! I was alone with him in the Neonatal Intensive care unit for about 2 hours before he was cleared of some minor birth complications and released to the nursery.

As I cradled his tiny head in my hands, I gently stroked his fluffy hair. He seemed to relax at my touch. He leaned into my arm and I gently rolled him over onto his tummy, balancing him as I did on my arm. I made all those silly, gentle noises that parents do with their babies as I ran my fingers through his hair. That's when I noticed something beneath his hairline at the base of his neck. He had a tiny "port wine" stain under his hair, in just about the same spot as my mom's! In that moment, I realized that somehow my mother knew and was present in this most important moment of my life.

Our son is four now and he is a thriving, happy little boy who is absolutely adored by his moms. And somewhere, I honestly believe my mother sees us and knows how blessed we are.

That's my story. Hope it interests you. It makes me smile to remember those early moments, so long ago. Now, I'll get back to my work but thank you for giving me the opportunity to write it down.