My Adoptee Journal - Part 2: Finding My Biological Father

This entry is a continuation of my adoption journey, which I wrote about in an earlier entry entitled, "My Adoptee Journal - Part 1: Finding My Biological Mother".

January 28, 2016

Out of the clear blue sky on Sunday morning, January 24, 2016, I received a phone call from my biological mother, "Y".  She and I don't talk much, so the urgency of her texts and voicemail frightened me a bit.  Nervously, I called her back.  I'd imagined she had bad news something along the lines of a death in the family or that she was seriously ill, but she had something even more shocking to share. She had been contacted by my biological father, and he was very interested in speaking with me.  Wait, what??!!  

I was surprised mostly because when I found her three years ago, she could not give with certainty the identity of my biological father.  She gave two names initially--two of which yielded unsuccessful results upon further investigation.  They were both elderly then.  The first had passed away years ago, and the other screamed at my search angel when she'd phoned him, proclaiming, "I already have kids! I don't need any more!"  Then when I got in touch with my biological aunt, she shared a name with me, which I looked into but never found any leads.  So you see...  After much deep thought and consideration, I believed the best thing at that point was to accept that I may never know my biological father.  I had found my biological mother, and that had to be enough.  I hadn't given up hope, but I knew dwelling any further would only cause mental anguish in the long run.

After the phone conversation with "Y", I immediately turned to Google and Facebook.  I searched for the name she gave me, found and contacted him via Facebook.  After a brief yet comfortable conversation, we decided the next most logical and safe action would be to perform DNA testing.  He wasted no time in consulting his pharmacy technician niece and purchasing the recommended testing kit.  By Wednesday, January 27, I had received my portion in the mail along with his. I completed my part and mailed them both that same afternoon.

At this time, we are both anxiously awaiting the results, which will take around a week to be revealed.  I am very nervous and excited.  It's surreal to think I could actually know both sides of my biological family tree.  I had grown so accustomed to the possibility of this opportunity never presenting itself.  

Although I am generally a primarily optimistic person, I naturally do have doubts about this.  The possibilities roll through my mind...

• It is possible that "Y" really doesn't know which man is my biological father.  If she wasn't sure when I found her three years ago, then why suddenly is she now?  
• It's also possible that she had been pressured by Social Services to "identify" him but was never certain.  But then again, I wonder why blood tests were never ordered to prove one way or the other. 
• It's possible that he has been led to believe for all these years that he had a long-lost biological daughter somewhere out there in the world.  If that's the scenario, I feel sorry for this man for having lived with the guilt and wonder that he has for all this time.  As a young man, he had been shocked to learn I existed.  Social Services arrived at his door one morning toting a photo of me as a baby in traction in the hospital due to my arm and leg injuries.  He was furious that I, an innocent baby, had been injured.  Plus I can imagine he was frightened because he was told if he didn't relinquish his parental rights, he would be responsible for all my hospital bills as well as the welfare payments "Y" had received.  I can't imagine needing to make such a crucial, split-second decision at his young age.  He has lived with that decision for nearly 34 years.
• However, I also hold onto the possibility and hope that he IS in fact "the one".  Within a week, we will know for sure.

My husband, the ever-constant skeptic, is my voice of reason.  I am trying not to get too invested in a relationship with this man until I know who he is for sure, but it is difficult.  I am not desperate for answers, but I am extremely elated to know there is a potential for them.

All my life, I have wondered about my biological roots.  Sure, I have a family... they accepted me as their own as soon as I entered my parents' life... and I have accepted them as mine as well.  I love them and wouldn't trade them for anything in this world.  I live our family traditions and celebrate our genealogy.  I wouldn't be "me" without them.  However, there has always been a part of me who has been saddened at the thought that I may never know my own entire biological truth.  I have considered it a gift to know half of it since finding "Y", but knowing ALL of it would surely be so much more satisfying.  

The roller coaster of emotions, which I once traveled during my search for my biological mom, is now in full motion.  But at least this time, I find comfort in knowing this is not uncharted territory for me.  I'm ready for answers.  I've fastened my seat belt, secured my possessions and am holding on for the ride!

February 6, 2016

The DNA test results came back.  My prospective biological father, and I anxiously waited all week for the DNA lab to get back to us.  The wait was difficult.  On Friday afternoon, February 5, the online login finally allowed us to enter and read the report.  Unfortunately, there was a 0% match, meaning the two of us could not possibly be related.

I had told myself from day #1 of hearing from my biological mother to not get too excited, to not invest too heavily in a relationship with this person, to not get my hopes too high... because it might not be real.  So with that being said, I was prepared for the worst (but hoping for the best) possible outcome.  When I read the big, fat 0% on the DNA report, I didn't quite know what to feel.  Initially, there was disappointment but not devastation.  I felt a little sad but not totally heartbroken. 

Surprisingly, the strongest emotion that came was empathy and sorrow for this man, who has lived for 34 years thinking he lost a child.  This man... who lived with the vision etched into his memory of that photo of an injured baby girl.  This man... who has lived with regret for having made a one-night-stand mistake that affected another person's life (mine).  I was more sad for him than myself. 

This man had been implicated then as a biological father to a child who he had just discovered existed.  What is boggling and so frustrating for me to ponder is that no blood tests were performed to confirm whether or not I was his.  I find this so astonishing and wrong. 

I really hoped this man was "the one".  He is a lovely, kind and generous soul.  He said he would have been honored to be my biological father, and I said vice versa.  It would have been fantastic to finally have closure on this chapter of my life, but the fact is that it just wasn't meant to be...

As for me, I will go on.  I could be angry at my biological mother.  I could scream and cry and lay blame, but that would solve nothing.  I could lay around being depressed, but that would be unhealthy.  It's not worthwhile to get too upset because it would only make me sick and rob me of precious quality time with the family I already love and cherish.  

The way I see it...  I haven't really lost anything because I never really had it anyway.  I had already accepted that I may never know the identity of my biological father.  So I will just go on not knowing, and I'm totally okay with that.  I have no plans to continue the search for my biological father.  That may be difficult for some to understand, but makes perfect logical sense to me.

Moving on... and wishing all the best to the lovely man I had the privilege of getting to know a little bit along the way.  He has closure now, and I can only imagine how that feels.  God bless, "L", and take care.