My last post seems like ages ago, and after writing it I received news that I wasn’t expecting. I’m not normally one to get my hopes too high but I was so anxious to meet my dad /donor after all these years of wondering what he even looked like, that I never questioned if my mom was even remotely unsure of paternity. The name had been out there for years and I’d searched everywhere for him, short of hiring a private investigator (which I had met with at one point..) I had done everything I could to find him. So when my Mom finally called and said she had found him, I was in tears. I couldn’t believe I would finally know what the other half of me was! I’d always wanted to know my genealogy, and tried to talk myself into that being the only thing I wanted to find him for. Unfortunately, even my ridiculously high walls were let down and I invited in the images of us meeting in a coffee shop and him seeing his granddaughter for the first time as rose colored premonitions. There was no doubt in my Mother’s voice when she told me he was it, this was my Father and the search was finally over. Now, I don’t want to ruin the surprise so early here, but the DNA test came back negative. I had built up our meeting in my head in so many different ways, but had never considered it not being him. I was pissed. At my mom, and at myself for getting my hopes up.
Cut to a few weeks later and my mom announces she’s engaged to be married in a couple months. (They’ve been together awhile, so it’s not a huge surprise.) I’m still in my slightly pissed keeping at a distance phase and I have a tendency to be bad at holding grudges so at this point I’m happy for her, but not ready to face everything that reopening the connection means. My bloodline has a tendency to sweep things under the rug and never talk about it. We see each other so rarely that those few times a year can’t be clouded by the real emotion that lies just beneath that excited demeanor. There are so many unsaid things and conversations that need to take place but probably never will. I decide to put on face and be happy, because nobody likes a Debbie Downer, right? But when you say you forgive someone, it doesn’t fully go away. That hurt is still there. And after so long, and so much forgiveness, you just become hardened. This was one of those emotional journeys that you go on and end up feeling different when it’s over. I don’t think I can be as open in person as I am on this blog, and it makes me think about how I genuinely feel when I write. How I really feel about this whole thing is empty. To be told I will never know the other half of myself is devastating. I’ll never know where I get my small ass feet from, or if I have more siblings, or if heart conditions are common on his side. But most of all, I’ll never have the relationship I dreamed of having with my “dad”. For a girl who has been through the parental wringer, you’d think I’d be over that, right? I’m crazy sometimes. I would probably be a great Maury story, just sayin.
I know that dwelling on things only makes them worse, so I hope that with writing this it will help me move on. I will never know and I have to be ok with that. I’m grateful for my life, and how hard I’ve worked to overcome all the emotional bullshit of my past, but I also know that it’s all a work in progress.