In a heart-wrenching yet ultimately triumphant story of resilience, love, and reunion, María Verónica Soto, a 64-year-old Chilean woman, has been reunited with her twin daughters, Maria Beatrice and Adelia Rose Mereu Chessa, after 45 years of separation. The emotional reunion took place in Concepción, a city in Chile’s Biobío province, marking the first time Soto had seen her daughters since they were stolen from her as infants during the dark days of General Augusto Pinochet’s dictatorship in 1979. The twins, now 46, traveled from Italy, where they had been raised by adoptive parents, to meet their biological mother, bringing closure to a decades-long saga of loss, deception, and unwavering determination.
The reunion, which unfolded on September 10, 2025, was a moment of profound joy and healing for Soto, who had endured nearly half a century of anguish after her daughters were taken from her at just eight months old. The twins, who always knew they were adopted from Chile, had no memory of their mother but carried a lingering curiosity about their origins. Their journey back to their mother’s arms is not only a personal victory but also a testament to the power of modern technology, advocacy, and the unyielding love of a mother who refused to give up hope.
The Stolen Children of Chile’s Dark Past
The story of María Verónica Soto and her daughters is set against the backdrop of one of the most troubling chapters in Chile’s history: the systematic theft of babies during Pinochet’s military dictatorship (1973–1990). Under Pinochet’s regime, thousands of infants were forcibly taken from their mothers, often under false pretenses, and placed for adoption abroad, primarily in the United States and Europe. These children, later dubbed the “Children of Silence,” became victims of a clandestine network involving corrupt officials, adoption agencies, doctors, priests, and nuns who profited from or facilitated these illegal adoptions.
The practice was particularly insidious because it preyed on vulnerable women, many of whom were poor, young, or politically targeted. Some mothers were told their babies had died, only to discover later that their children had been adopted out. Others, like Soto, were accused of neglect or abandonment, with their pleas for justice ignored by a repressive system that silenced dissent. Birth certificates were often falsified, erasing any trace of the children’s true origins and making reunions nearly impossible without significant resources or intervention.
For Soto, the nightmare began in 1979 in Hualpén, a working-class commune near Concepción. At the age of 19, she gave birth to her twin daughters, Maria Beatrice and Adelia Rose. The young mother, overjoyed at the arrival of her girls, took them for a routine doctor’s visit when they were eight months old. What should have been a standard checkup turned into a life-altering tragedy. Hospital officials informed Soto that her daughters required further evaluation due to concerns about their health. She was told to leave them in the care of medical professionals, but when she returned, her babies were gone.
Devastated and desperate, Soto sought help from the police, only to be met with indifference and deceit. She was informed that her daughters had been placed for adoption abroad, with their birth certificates altered to falsely claim that no parents had come forward to claim them. The accusation that Soto had failed to feed her daughters properly—a baseless charge—was used to justify their removal. Powerless against the authoritarian regime, Soto was left with no recourse, her cries for justice drowned out in a society where marginalized women had little voice.
“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 capturing the systemic oppression that silenced countless mothers during Pinochet’s rule. The theft of her daughters was not an isolated incident but part of a broader pattern that affected thousands of families, leaving a legacy of pain that persists to this day.
A Mother’s Unyielding Search
For 45 years, María Verónica Soto carried the weight of her loss, but she never stopped hoping for a miracle. Her determination to find her daughters remained steadfast, even as the years turned into decades. The pain of separation was compounded by the uncertainty of not knowing whether her girls were safe, happy, or even alive. Yet, Soto’s love for her daughters and her belief that they might one day be reunited fueled her resilience.
The turning point came in 2020 when Soto reached out to Nos Buscamos, a Chilean non-governmental organization dedicated to helping families affected by illegal adoptions reconnect with their loved ones. Founded to address the injustices of the Pinochet era, Nos Buscamos has been instrumental in facilitating reunions between stolen children and their biological families. The organization uses DNA testing and international databases to trace individuals who were adopted abroad, often under false or coercive circumstances.
Soto submitted a DNA sample to Nos Buscamos, which was entered into an international database used to match biological families with adopted children. For years, she waited, holding onto hope even as the process yielded no immediate results. The search was slow and emotionally taxing, but Soto’s resolve never wavered. “I fought until I found my girls,” she later said, her words a testament to her strength and perseverance.
The breakthrough came earlier in 2025, when Soto’s grandson—the son of one of the twins—took a DNA test, likely through a commercial genealogy service. The test results matched with Soto’s DNA in the Nos Buscamos database, creating a link that would finally bridge the gap between mother and daughters. Within 20 minutes of the match being identified, Soto was contacted via Facebook, and she found herself speaking with Maria Beatrice and Adelia Rose for the first time in 45 years. The speed of the connection was staggering, a stark contrast to the decades of waiting and searching.
A Joyous Reunion in Concepción
On September 10, 2025, Concepción’s Carriel Sur International Airport became the stage for a deeply moving reunion. Maria Beatrice and Adelia Rose, now 46 and living in Italy, stepped off the plane and into the arms of their mother, who had been waiting for this moment for nearly half a century. The scene was one of unrestrained emotion, with tears, embraces, and words of love transcending the barriers of time and language.
Soto, overcome with joy, repeated the words, “Momma always looked for you,” as she held her daughters close. The twins, who had grown up speaking Italian and had limited proficiency in Spanish, communicated their love through gestures and the universal language of family. “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!” Maria Beatrice said, her voice filled with excitement and gratitude.
The language barrier—Soto speaks only Spanish, while her daughters primarily speak Italian—did little to diminish the power of the moment. Their embrace spoke louder than words, a physical manifestation of the bond that had endured despite decades of separation. For Soto, the reunion was nothing short of miraculous. “God heard me,” she said. “For me, this has been like giving birth to my daughters again, but in an adult version.”
The twins’ adoptive parents in Italy, who had raised Maria Beatrice and Adelia Rose with love and care, were unaware that the girls had been taken from their biological mother without consent. This revelation added a layer of complexity to the reunion, as the twins grappled with the knowledge that their adoption was rooted in deception. Yet, their joy at finding their biological mother and discovering their Chilean roots outweighed the pain of the past.
The Legacy of the “Children of Silence”
The story of María Verónica Soto and her daughters is one of hope, but it is also a stark reminder of the thousands of families still searching for answers. The “Children of Silence” represent a generation of Chileans who were torn from their families, their identities erased, and their stories buried under layers of bureaucracy and corruption. Estimates suggest that between 8,000 and 20,000 children were illegally adopted during Pinochet’s dictatorship, though the true number may never be known.
The methods used to separate these children from their mothers were varied but uniformly cruel. Some women were told their babies had died shortly after birth, only to later discover that their children had been given to adoptive families. Others, like Soto, were accused of being unfit mothers, with authorities exploiting their poverty or lack of social power to justify taking their children. In some cases, mothers were coerced by religious figures or family members to give up their babies, often under the guise of ensuring a “better life” for the child.
The international adoption market during the Pinochet era was lucrative, with agencies and intermediaries profiting from the sale of Chilean babies to families in wealthier nations. The United States, Sweden, Italy, and other European countries were common destinations for these children, many of whom grew up unaware of their true origins. The falsification of documents, such as birth certificates, made it nearly impossible for families to trace their loved ones without significant resources or external help.
In recent years, organizations like Nos Buscamos have worked tirelessly to address this injustice, using advances in DNA technology and international collaboration to reunite families. The rise of commercial DNA testing services, such as AncestryDNA and 23andMe, has also played a significant role, allowing individuals to uncover their biological roots and connect with relatives they never knew existed. For Soto and her daughters, this technology was the key to their reunion, offering a glimmer of hope in a story that had long been marked by despair.
A Mother’s Message of Hope
María Verónica Soto’s story is one of extraordinary perseverance, but she is keenly aware that not all mothers have been as fortunate. Many of her contemporaries are still searching for their children, while others have passed away without ever knowing the truth. For Soto, the reunion with her daughters is a blessing, but it also underscores the importance of continuing the fight for justice and accountability.
“I fought until I found my girls,” Soto said. “That’s why I tell those mothers not to stop fighting. Knock on doors, because now there are more possibilities with technology.” Her words are a call to action for other families affected by the illegal adoptions of the Pinochet era, urging them to leverage modern tools and advocacy networks to seek answers.
The reunion has also opened a new chapter for Maria Beatrice and Adelia Rose, who are eager to connect with their extended family in Chile. The twins have expressed a desire to learn Spanish, explore their cultural heritage, and build relationships with their siblings, uncles, cousins, and other relatives. For them, the journey is not just about finding their mother but about rediscovering a part of themselves that was taken away before they could even understand it.
A Broader Call for Justice
The reunion of María Verónica Soto and her daughters is a powerful reminder of the enduring impact of historical injustices and the importance of addressing them. In Chile, efforts to uncover the truth about the “Children of Silence” have gained momentum in recent years, with advocacy groups, journalists, and survivors pushing for greater transparency and accountability. Investigations into the illegal adoptions have revealed the complicity of government officials, medical professionals, and religious institutions, prompting calls for reparations and legal reforms.
The Chilean government has taken some steps to address this dark chapter, including the establishment of a national commission to investigate illegal adoptions and support reunification efforts. However, progress has been slow, and many families continue to face bureaucratic hurdles and emotional challenges in their search for answers. The lack of comprehensive records, combined with the passage of time, makes it difficult to achieve justice for all those affected.
On a global scale, the story of the “Children of Silence” resonates with similar cases of forced adoptions and child trafficking in countries such as Argentina, Guatemala, and Spain, where authoritarian regimes or systemic corruption facilitated the separation of families. These cases highlight the need for international cooperation to address the legacy of such abuses and ensure that survivors and their families receive the support they need.
Looking Forward: A Family Reunited
For María Verónica Soto, the reunion with her daughters is a dream come true, a moment of redemption after decades of heartache. The joy of holding Maria Beatrice and Adelia Rose in her arms has given her a renewed sense of purpose, and she is determined to make up for lost time. The twins, too, are eager to embrace their Chilean heritage and build a future with their mother and extended family.
As they navigate the complexities of their reunion, Soto and her daughters are united by a shared sense of gratitude and hope. The language barrier, the years of separation, and the pain of the past cannot diminish the love that binds them. For Soto, the reunion is a testament to the power of faith, resilience, and the unbreakable bond between a mother and her children.
“God heard me,” she said, her voice filled with emotion. For María Verónica Soto, Maria Beatrice, and Adelia Rose, the journey to this moment was long and fraught with challenges, but it has culminated in a reunion that will forever change their lives. Their story is a beacon of hope for the thousands of families still searching for their loved ones, a reminder that even in the face of unimaginable loss, love and determination can prevail.