Let’s get straight to the point: the man you refer to as your dad is not your biological father. I know this is a heavy statement, and I’ll have to face it with you one day. You’ll grow up, and as you look back at your life, you might remember when your last name was different. You’ll come to realize that it didn’t change just because “mommy and daddy got married.” You’ll start to notice the physical similarities between you and others, hear certain things, and perhaps even meet your half-siblings at school. Yes, there are others out there, and you might not even know you share the same bloodline with them.
You may not grasp the concept of a stepfather yet, but I’ll have to explain it all to you eventually. I’m still trying to piece together a coherent narrative—one that blends the truth with the softer bits of reality that I want to present to you. Yes, I will hold back certain details, at least until you are old enough to understand the court documents or decide to seek the truth for yourselves. After all, I’m your mother, and the thought of causing you pain is unbearable.
I’ll tell you, my daughter, that your father was once there for me when I was struggling. There are people in this world who find fulfillment in fixing what’s broken, and he was one of those individuals. I’ll explain how he devoted his energy to help me heal, even though it didn’t last. I’ll say we tried our best to be great parents, but he eventually moved on to someone else who needed him more. I’ll tell you that he chose your stepfather for you, that he looked at our unconventional family and said, “Yes, he can adopt her.”
But I won’t share how he slowly faded from your life. I won’t mention the excuses he made, or that he had other children and that the woman he was with wanted us out of the picture. I’ll pray you forget those aspects of our past.
To you, my son, I’ll describe your father and me as two live grenades, bouncing around a room, inevitable chaos waiting to unfold. I’ll tell you we loved each other passionately but eventually burned out. He was a brave man, committed to serving his country, each time giving a little more of himself away. I’ll explain how he recognized he couldn’t be the father you deserved and chose to step back, even asking me to let your stepfather adopt you to create a more stable family.
I won’t delve into the darker elements of our relationship— the infidelity, substance abuse, and conflict. I won’t talk about the struggles we faced, like the times we received aid from the church, or how you were just learning to walk the last time you saw him.
The only father you’ve known is the one who has raised you, and while I wish that would be enough, I know the day is coming when the truth will emerge. Last names can’t replace the reality of blood, and I dread the moment you seek out those you’re related to but don’t yet know.
In the meantime, if you’re looking for helpful resources, check out this blog post for more insights. And if you’re considering at-home insemination options, Make a Mom has a great selection of fertility supplements and kits to explore. For further guidance on pregnancy and home insemination, UCSF’s Center is an excellent resource.
In summary, while the truth about your biological father may eventually come to light, the love and care from the family you have now is irreplaceable.
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