Anyone that knows me very well knows I didn’t grow up with my biological father. Being that he and my mother were both 17 when I was born it stands to reason I may not have grown up with him around; how many children born to teen fathers do? It was never a secret who he was or where he was. My mother never kept me from him in any way. I even recall him coming to our home when I was about seven years old and giving me a birthday gift. I saw him again when I was 18, when I went looking for him; that didn’t go well. Then again when I was 22, pregnant with my oldest son, I was introduced to his wife and four children; my half siblings. It still seems strange to think I have four siblings out there that I know virtually nothing about, but anyway, that’s a story for another time. There has really been very little contact between us and almost all of it initiated by me.

When I was diagnosed with Amyloidosis in 2014 I reached out to him again. I mean really, he couldn’t ignore me anymore, could he? I was dying! I had just been given this awful diagnosis, and told that the mortality rate was about 6 to 18 months. Certainly he would have more than a few words to say to me, but no. When I spoke with him I didn’t know what kind of Amyloidosis I had and the only time he called me back was three weeks later to find out if the disease was hereditary or not, I didn’t hear from him again. Really, he didn’t know if I was alive or dead, and that’s when I decided I would just be fatherless. It would be easier to just not have a father (in the human sense, God my Father is a whole different story) and pretending he didn’t exist might shield me from the hurt I felt knowing, finally, that he really didn’t care!

During that last contact with both he and his wife, I was surprised by a speculation on their part that I was not his daughter. Now keep in mind I’m 43 years old at this point in time and this is the very first time I am ever hearing that he has any doubt that I may or may not be his offspring. His wife spouted off something about blood type, that was wrong, but otherwise no one gave me any information about why they doubted my paternity. Of course my mother has never wavered as to who my biological father is, and I believe her wholeheartedly. I don’t think a mother would lie to her daughter for 40+ years about something like that and I have never thought she did. But the lack of contact after knowing I was diagnosed with a terminal disease and the speculation that I wasn’t his child certainly explained why he didn’t appear to care how I was.

Fast forward to 2019 and me sitting around a little apartment in Salt Lake City almost four years in remission from that nasty disease that should have killed me, healing from a heart transplant. I get to thinking, does he even know if I’m alive, and does he really doubt I’m his daughter? Again, I tracked him down and called. Again, I was told that he doubted it, however this time I was given a name of a possible “alternate” father. Ultimately you have to love modern medical technology! Why don’t we put this all to rest once and for all. I don’t know that things will be any different once we have definitive proof, but a DNA paternity test would put this whole thing to rest. Assuming he is honest on his end and swabs the inside of HIS cheek and not his co-worker’s, we should get the results I’ve always known, and I think he has too, and that is, he’s my biological father.

So, you want to know the results, yeah, so do I! We’re still anxiously waiting. It shouldn’t take long, we both sent in our samples right away and it only takes 2 to 3 business days to process. Assuming the lab got our samples about the same time we should know by tomorrow, Monday at the latest, what the results are. Until then, we tentatively text each other in this weird kind of way, I’m not sure how to explain it. I feel like he’s texted me more words than he’s spoken to me in 47 years. Unfortunately, his contact is still for informational purposes, and not really an inquiry about me. Any results yet? I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hurt. I don’t know him, and I don’t know what his life has been like, or what he’s been through. There may be perfectly valid reasons why he’s stayed out of my life, I don’t know. I hope once these results are in he’ll tell me.

UPDATE 3/12/2019: Probability of Paternity: 0% – I guess I’m on the hunt for a new “baby daddy”