Woman searching for birth parents found dad was a friend on Facebook

Tamuna Museridze's quest to find her birth parents spanned an incredible eight years. It all began when she made a phone call that she had long dreamed of making. This call was to the woman she believed to be her biological mother. Tamuna was filled with hope, but she was also aware that the outcome might not be what she wished for. When she finally reached out, the response was shocking. The woman on the other end of the line began to scream and shout, denying any connection to Tamuna. 'I didn’t give birth to a child. I want nothing to do with you,' she yelled. Tamuna was taken aback by the anger and hostility, feeling more surprised than hurt. Despite this cold reception, Tamuna was determined to continue her search. She wanted to uncover the truth about her adoption and, more importantly, learn the name of her father. Tamuna's journey began in 2016 after the death of the woman who raised her. While going through her belongings, she stumbled upon a birth certificate that had her name but an incorrect birth date. This discovery led her to suspect that she might have been adopted. To aid her search, she created a Facebook group called 'I’m Searching,' hoping to connect with anyone who might help her find her birth parents. However, what she uncovered was far more disturbing than she had anticipated. Tamuna discovered a baby trafficking scandal in Georgia that had affected countless families. For decades, many parents were misled into believing their newborns had died, only to find out later that their babies had been sold. As a journalist, Tamuna had spent her career helping families reunite, yet she found herself unable to solve the mystery of her own origins. 'I was a journalist on this story, but it was also a personal mission for me,' she explained. Tamuna had already helped reunite families through her Facebook group, including identical twins Ano and Amy, who had been separated at birth. The breakthrough in her search came during the summer when she received a message from someone living in rural Georgia. This person claimed to know a woman who had given birth in Tbilisi in September 1984, around the time Tamuna was born. They believed this woman was Tamuna's birth mother and provided her with a name. Excited yet anxious, Tamuna searched for this woman online but found nothing. She decided to post an appeal on Facebook, asking if anyone had information about her. Soon, a woman responded, stating that the woman Tamuna was looking for was her aunt. This woman requested that Tamuna take down her post but agreed to a DNA test. While waiting for the results, Tamuna made the call to her mother again. A week later, the DNA results confirmed that Tamuna and the woman on Facebook were indeed cousins. Armed with this new information, Tamuna was able to convince her mother to acknowledge the truth and reveal the name of her father, Gurgen Khorava. 'The first two months were shocking; I couldn’t believe these things were happening to me,' she recalled. With Gurgen's name in hand, Tamuna quickly found him on Facebook. To her astonishment, he had been following her story on social media for three years without realizing he was part of it. They arranged to meet in Gurgen's hometown of Zugdidi, which was about 160 miles from where Tamuna lived in Tbilisi. When they finally met, Tamuna felt a mix of emotions. As she approached Gurgen's garden gate, she felt surprisingly calm. When the 72-year-old man appeared, they embraced, and both took a moment to smile at each other. 'It was strange; the moment he looked at me, he knew that I was his daughter,' she recalled. They sat together, trying to find common ground and share their stories. As they talked, they discovered many shared interests. Gurgen had once been a famous dancer at the State Ballet of Georgia, and he was thrilled to learn that Tamuna's daughters also loved to dance. Gurgen invited his entire family to meet Tamuna, introducing her to a large group of new relatives, including half-siblings, cousins, aunts, and uncles. They all agreed that Tamuna bore a strong resemblance to her father. 'Out of all his children, I look the most like my father,' she said with a smile. They spent a wonderful evening together, sharing stories, enjoying traditional Georgian food, and singing while Gurgen played the accordion. Despite the joy of meeting her father, Tamuna still had a lingering question: had she been stolen from her mother at birth, like so many others in Georgia? With her adoptive parents no longer alive, she could not seek answers from them. In October, Tamuna finally had the opportunity to ask her birth mother. A Polish TV company was filming a documentary about her story and arranged for her to meet her mother privately. Unlike many others she had helped reunite, Tamuna learned that she had not been a stolen child. Instead, her mother had given her up and kept it a secret for 40 years. Tamuna's mother and father had never been in a relationship and had only a brief encounter. Overwhelmed by shame, her mother chose to hide her pregnancy. In September 1984, she traveled to Tbilisi, telling people she was going for surgery, but instead, she gave birth to Tamuna. She remained there until arrangements were made for Tamuna's adoption. 'It was painful to learn that I spent ten days alone with her before the adoption. I try not to think about that,' Tamuna reflected. Her mother had asked her to lie and say she was stolen, but Tamuna refused. 'If I lie, nobody's going to believe those mothers anymore,' she explained. After this conversation, her mother asked her to leave, and they have not spoken since. 'Would I do it all again? ' Tamuna reflected. 'Of course I would; I found out so much about my new family.