I Came Home From A Hospital Shift To Find My Fiancée And Baby Gone. The Police Called It A “Civil Matter” And Refused To Help. How Do I Find My Daughter?

The Legal Battle Begins

I drove home empty-handed. Filed for emergency custody the next day. Court date set for 6 weeks out.

During those 6 weeks, Becca started posting on social media. Pictures of her, Keith, and Lily. Happy little family. Keith is teaching Lily to crawl. Keith is reading her bedtime stories.

My own mother saw them. “She looks happy, Jason. Maybe this is for the best.”

“For the best? She stole my daughter.”

Two weeks before court, Becca called me. “I’m willing to work something out. You can see Lily every other weekend.”

“Every other weekend? I’m her father.”

“Keith and I are getting married. He wants to adopt her. It would be easier if you just signed over your rights.”

I laughed. “Not happening.”

She got nasty. “You were never ready to be a father anyway. Always working, never home. Keith has a flexible schedule; he works from home.”

“Then Keith can watch her during your custody time.”

“My custody time? Jason, be realistic. Courts favor mothers. I’m getting primary custody either way. You can fight it and waste money, or we can settle now.”

The First Hearing

The day before court, she showed up at my apartment. No Keith, but she had Lily. “I thought you should see her before tomorrow. You know, in case the judge limits your visitation. I’m asking for full custody.”

“Becca…”

She laughed. “Good luck with that. I’m the mother who’s been primary caregiver.”

“You abandoned us.”

“Abandoned you? You disappeared.”

“I needed space to heal from our toxic relationship.”

“Toxic? We were planning our wedding.”

She started crying on cue. “You were so controlling. I felt trapped. I had to escape for Lily’s safety.”

“For her safety? From what?”

Becca leaned in close. “I’ve been documenting everything. Your anger issues, your drinking.”

“What drinking? I have one beer after shift sometimes.”

“That’s not how I’ll tell it in court.”

We got to court. Becca showed up with Keith and her entire family. She’d coached them all. Her mother testified I was absent. Her sister said I was aggressive. Keith testified he’d been more of a father to Lily than I ever was.

Then the judge asked about the birth certificate. I submitted Lily’s birth certificate as evidence. The judge looked at it, then looked at Becca. “Ma’am, you listed Jason as the father?”

“Yes, Your Honor.”

“And you two were never married?”

“We were engaged.”

The judge turned to me. “Have you taken a paternity test?”

“No, Your Honor. She’s my daughter.”

The judge ordered one. Fastest results possible.

Proving Paternity

Three days later, we were back in court. The paternity test confirmed what I already knew. I’m Lily’s biological father; 99.9% match.

The judge read the results out loud in court. Her voice flat and official, like she was ordering coffee instead of confirming my entire world.

Becca’s lawyer stood up before I could even process it. “Your Honor, while we acknowledge the paternity results, biology alone doesn’t establish fitness as a parent. My client has been the primary caregiver for 9 months now. She’s established routines, medical care, and a stable home environment. Mr. Anderson has had minimal contact with the child during her formative months.”

I wanted to scream, “Minimal contact because your client kidnapped her!” but Jeffrey put his hand on my arm, keeping me quiet.

Across the courtroom, Becca actually smirked at me. Keith wrapped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close like they’d already won.

The judge looked at me over her glasses. “Mr. Anderson, I understand your frustration. However, family courts prioritize the best interests of the child above all else. I’m ordering a full custody evaluation by a court-appointed psychologist. In the meantime, you’ll have supervised visitation twice weekly at an approved facility. Each visit will be 2 hours. The evaluation will take approximately 6 weeks.”

My chest felt tight. Two hours, twice a week? That’s all I got? After months of fighting, Becca gets to play house with Keith while I get four hours a week with my own daughter.