I have had multiple DNA tests done on me. Some as a child. Most as an adult. They don’t get any easier the more I have. Each one is enough to drive me mad. Do I look like this man? Is this it? Is my search over? Am I going to get the answer I’ve been trying to for so long? Am I going to be right back where I started, plus out the hope, the time and the money for the test? If it’s negative, what next? If it’s positive, what next? What if I never find him? What if this is it? What if I wasted all this time and have nothing to show for it?
It’s enough to drive me crazy. Each and every time.
Then I get the results and my heart sinks to the very bottom of my little toe. Negative. It is always negative. At one point, I started to feel as though a positive just wasn’t possible for me.. ever. I feel absolutely crushed, but sadly unsurprised… every.single.time.
Except last time.
The last DNA test I had done, I saw that bold-type “0%” and I felt angry. It was this instantaneous rage and I said “Something isn’t right,” even though there was no one in the room with me. It just didn’t feel right. It still doesn’t feel right and it wasn’t just a passing thought or a fleeting idea. It’s been over a month and it still feels wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. Every little bit of it feels wrong and the more I sit on it, the more I dwell on it, the more I talk about it, the more I write about it, the more wrong it feels. Just when I think it can’t feel any more wrong or any more off than it does, a week passes and it feels a million times more wrong than it did before. And I can’t shake it.
I can’t shake the feeling.
No matter how I try. No matter how I try to rationalize it. No matter how many other theories I entertain, I can’t shake the feeling something is wrong. And at the end of the day, when I try to calm my thoughts for the night, it comes down to this…
Something doesn’t add up.
I don’t like to call anyone a liar, but sometimes it is what it is. Especially when the lies are so obvious. Maybe they weren’t intentional lies. Maybe they were the result of confusion, but regardless, they sure as hell aren’t the truth. Intentional or not, the truth is what I am after and I can’t shake the feeling that what I was getting from Raymond wasn’t the truth.
- The “Black Cloud”
Raymond claims to have a “black cloud” over that time in his life and he “can’t remember” things from that time. He seems to rely on whatever it is his ex-wife, Carla, tells him is true and defends whatever she tells him, quite vehemently, regardless of his own inability to remember it for himself. What is even stranger, is that most of what his ex-wife has told him doesn’t make sense. His ex-wife claims that she and my mother “ran around together.” Funny. My mom said they weren’t close and only hung out a couple times in her living room with Carla’s baby. Carla also seems to know a great deal about my mother’s pregnancy… Which is odd considering the timeline and the fact my mother didn’t tell anyone and skipped state before she was showing. He claims he does not even know who my mother is or remember her at all. Strangely, despite his inability to remember anything from that time, he remembered enough to make a suggestion as to who he thinks my father might be.
- Pregnancy length
His ex-wife supposedly “confirmed” that my mother and Larry got married because she was pregnant with me. They were married December 1, 1987. I was born October 21, 1988. In order for this to be true, my mother would have to have been pregnant, at minimum, 11 months and 3 weeks. I pointed this out numerous times and was met with the very aggressive defense that he “confirmed it with multiple sources.” I’m sorry, but it doesn’t matter what these “sources” say. It is simply impossible. Absolutely and utterly impossible. The dates don’t lie. The hospital records don’t lie. Her marriage record and my birth record (which are publicly available) do not lie. What he is saying and what he believes to be true, is not possible. He even argued with me over this after the results came back, insisting that “It’s the real story,” and that he “confirmed it.” Repeatedly. And when I told him it wasn’t possible, only continued to argue with me. The story changed a couple times too.. She was already pregnant… Then he didn’t know her when she was pregnant.
He does not believe he could be my father because he was gone in February and missed his oldest son’s first birthday, on February 2nd. Clearly, he was gone early in the month, but he doesn’t remember when in January he left Alaska. I would have been conceived (with a generous allotment of time on either side) between January 20, 1988 and February 4, 1988. I am a pregnancy, birth and fertility guru. I have run these dates, run these numbers, given my bests guesses and estimates over and over and over. This is the best time frame I can come up with and unless he knows for sure that he wasn’t in the state at all in that window, then I can’t rule it out.
- Legal test
I wanted a legal test, as I want with every DNA test I have done. Yes, it costs more money but that extra money buys me peace of mind. That extra money buys me photographing, fingerprinting, identification and a chain of custody. That extra money ensures that the party I want tested, is actually participating in the test. I paid for the legal test and he was supposed to call and confirm a clinic location. He claimed they couldn’t do it for him because he was in Dubai. I later found out (after calling the clinic) that they could have but he argued and refused to involve a local hospital, physician or clinic, “due to the culture.” Which, if you believe mainstream media of the middle east, is understable. But when one of my best friends is middle eastern and her entire family lives there and she’s extremely familiar with it and knows that it can be done there? Then yeah, it looks suspicious that he won’t do a legal test, especially when the clinic tells me they tried to make it happen and he was the one who was unwilling.
- Follow-up test
Despite my reluctance to do a home test, I agreed on the condition that a follow-up legal test be done if the home test was negative. I let him know that if it is negative, I would want a follow-up test with confirmed identity, or a test against one of his relatives here in the United States. He agreed. In fact, he said, “I’m ok with that plan… At this point I am not prepared for you to come here. So this plan works for me. Rest assured I will be honest with my swab.” When I requested that confirmation test, he told me “If this test we just did is a trustworthy approach to testing and you trust the testing center than you can count on the result as being final. I fulfilled my promise to you. If you want confirmation testing you will only be wasting money, time because the result will be the same. I’m so sorry for you and wish this would have ended your quest.” I told him that if that’s the case, it won’t hurt to test again. He repeatedly told me it won’t change the results, it will only waste time and money, he’s not my father, instead of just agreeing to a legal test.
I asked him for copies of his alleles from other DNA tests he’s done. Since I was the only one with the results, I was hoping to compare his alleles to the ones of my test. If I had a positive test of his, and the alleles matched the ones on my test, I’d know he was being honest. Unfortunately, the only test of the two he could find, had four alleles that I did not have on my test since mine was a motherless test. I asked him to keep looking for the other one. He asked me for a copy of my test. Why? I’m not just going to hand over that data to be forged. Needless to say, he hasn’t said a word more about finding the other test.
He didn’t even want to take a home test initially. He repeatedly told me how “devastating” a positive would be, despite me telling him (and meaning it) that no one had to know and I wouldn’t breathe a word. It took me suggesting that I could take a test with his family and letting him know that I wouldn’t be giving up just because he told me no to get him to agree. Trust me, there was no limit to the ways he could let me know that a positive DNA test with me would be the absolute worst thing that could happen to him.
These are just a few of the many, many, many reasons why I feel off about this man and the test he submitted. Not to mention, his daughter and his second son look so much like me. They look more like me than any of my mother’s children do… and we know I’m related to them for sure! Heck, his granddaughter could be my daughter’s clone. There’s no denying the insane amount of visual similarities… Something I have never encountered with other candidates.
Maybe I’m right. Maybe he lied. Maybe he lied through his damn teeth. Maybe I’m wrong and he’s just got an extremely shotty memory and is extremely ignorant when it comes to human reproduction. Who knows? I certainly don’t and there’s no way for me to know until I figure all of this out and piece together this insane jigsaw puzzle.
As much as people want to suggest it, I do not think that there is any other possibility for my father. I just don’t. Maybe I’ll find that out when the genetic tests come back, but until then, I really don’t think it is.
Another option is that one of my legal tests was wrong. Maybe there was an error in the lab. Maybe a sample got switched. Maybe a machine was acting up the day my sample was tested. Who knows? I don’t. But like I said in a previous blog post, if this is the case, I know enough about those men that I should be able to see that direction in the results. I will say though, that if one of my legal tests was wrong and I can prove it, I will sue the lab for the emotional turmoil and absolute devastation I have been though for the last nine years. But, really, I think this is extremely unlikely.
If I had to put numbers on it, I’d say that there’s a 99.9% chance that something was wrong with Raymond’s test, a 0.05% chance that one of my previous legal tests were wrong and a 0.05% chance that there’s another possibility.
That’s it. That’s how I feel about it. So far in life, my gut hasn’t steered me wrong. Why would it now? The only way to find out is to wait for these tests. And you know, trace back his paternal lineage 5 generations, fill in about 200+ relatives and identify about thirty possible surnames. At this point, I’m willing to wager that I know more about his family history than he does.
But now we wait.