Paternity

D-Day

This will likely be the last blog post I make before I find out if the test results are negative or positive.

It’s unreal.

I was ready to know Friday, but now that it’s Tuesday… It’s D-day, so to speak. We’re either going to come out of this victorious, or walk away defeated.

And both are terrifying.

If it’s positive… I don’t know if I’ll be able to believe it… I don’t know how I’ll handle that… After all… I’ve been searching for so long, and searching so hard… How would I have ever guessed that I actually would find him one day? Just seems to defy the natural order of all the things that can be my daily life… i.e. nothing going right, especially when I need it to.

If it’s negative… Well, the only silver lining is that this always happens to me… I get my hopes up, and start thinking positive, only for it to be crushed like a tiny little pansy, poking up through the sidewalk cracks.

Both answers, I think, are going to be difficult for me to swallow.

I went to my GP yesterday. I tried to get into a counselor, just for an urgent-type visit, but no one was open for weeks, and an appointment several weeks out isn’t going to help me, so I scheduled with the GP. She got me in really quickly and when she came in, I actually talked about it in depth with her. Sure, I’ve wrote some of my feelings out… But I haven’t actually said them aloud to anyone. Mostly because I don’t think anyone knows what to say… I tried to talk to Dan but he seemed really unsure of how to react and I didn’t want to lay that on him.

I cried.

My GP was great though. I hope she wasn’t busy because she spent a good chunk of time in there with me. She prescribed me some valium, wished me well and gave me a hug. Took some last night, because she told me to, especially if I couldn’t sleep… I didn’t realize how bad that stuff knocks you out. I fell asleep sitting up with a cup in my hand on the couch and Bre and Dan telling me to go get in bed… I think I need a sleep apnea treatment instead.

But for the first time in the last couple weeks, I slept.

Of course, I had several dreams. All of which I remember. And all of which revolve around my impending DNA results.

The first one was strange… I was sitting in this hotel lobby looking place, but it was a clinic… and you could see this pool inside of some glass windows, and when they called yur name you had to swim to get the results… but the water was boiling hot. I asked if I could skip the swimming because I don’t swim well, and I had Ava strapped to me and the clerk blew up at me and told me my results would be the absolute last… and there were hundreds ahead of me…

The next one, I was at a girl’s house that I don’t particularly like… Maddi and Danny were inside and getting into all this nasty garbage all over the trailer and I kept lecturing them not to… There were a lot of people there… And a lot of drugs. I kept checking my phone waiting for a call, and I never got one. All of a sudden, I realized I couldn’t find Ava… I went back outside and realized she had gotten out of her car seat somehow, and was facedown on the floor, screaming bloody murder, most likely for hours before I found her. When I got her, I went back in to grab Maddi and Danny and couldn’t find them anywhere.

Then, in another, I was waiting for the phone call… Waiting and waiting… I logged on to Facebook, only to see a picture of the potential father and his wife holding this long, rectangular red piece of paper… Captioned “Sorry! Negative!”

And they all felt real.

I don’t know what I’m going to do or how I’m going to do it, but at this point, all I can do is wait… and hope that my heard doesn’t explode.

 


Things in my life are awfully complicated lately. I suppose complicated isn’t the word I’m looking for. Confusing? Conflicting? Complication? Anxiety-inducing? Terrifying? Exciting? Dread-inducing? All of the above and maybe a few more?

I wanted to clear something up in my previous two posts. Re-reading, I may have given an unfair impression of my mother. Although what I said was factual, I didn’t present it in the best light. My mom did the best she could given the situation, and even despite the fact that my father was absent, she still made the choice to keep me and give me an opportunity at life. I had a lot of problems in my teen years, and in a way, she may have thought she was protecting me by not telling me who my father may be. Although I disagree with that choice, and it hurt me greatly, she made the choice she felt was best at the time. Maybe in retrospect she’d have told me then. Maybe she wouldn’t have. Regardless, we can’t change it now and I didn’t mean to make it sound as bad as it came out. There is no checklist of how-to-make-all-the-right-choices-as-a-parent, and just as I’m learning as I go with my own children, she was too. I can’t fault her for that. Thankfully, I’m not in a position to ever have to make that kind of choice with my own children… But I can only imagine how difficult of a situation that must have been for her. We all do things we aren’t proud of, and admitting and owning up to those things, especially to have to do it to such an intense level, can’t be easy and for that, she deserves respect. It takes a big person to own up to something of that caliber. Although I will never understand why she made the choices she made, and it will probably always sting a little, I don’t believe she made them out of ill-intent.

Now that’s cleared up, I did my DNA test. We drove to Anchorage, my grandma, myself and the three kids. I enjoyed the ride. I like it much better when someone else is driving, rather than myself. It was nice just to talk and relax a bit. On the way up, we pulled over before AJ’s roadside memorial. I can’t believe it was two years ago in August…. I fixed it up some while I was there, but I didn’t have much time.

I knew someone had put up a second cross a while ago, but I didn’t know who. When I got up close to it, I realized it was probably Rodney’s mom or dad because they had chiseled “Rest in peace son” into the wood of the cross. I didn’t know Rodney, but I can’t imagine the pain his parents feel, even now, two years later.

We made it to Anchorage and had lunch with Dan’s grandmother who was up from Texas. She had asked me a while ago to make her some diapers for a friend, and even though it took me quite a bit (finals, school, life, etc) I got them done and she absolutely loved them.

So after we had lunch, Grandma and I headed off to find the place where my appointment was. It took us a little bit of searching, but we found it. We went in about half an hour early though because my phone and camera were both dead and I needed to find an outlet. We let the kids walk up the stairs rather than take the elevator. After all, they’d been cooped up in the car all day… Might as well let them stretch out while they can, right?

We waited a little while and they called me back. I had Ava in the moby wrap, and she was being a little fuss bucket. She was her usual self… Angry at the world and screaming her head off. She wouldn’t even calm down long enough for me to fill out my papers even though I had just fed her and just burped her. Sometimes I think she just hates me or something.

Anyways, I popped a boob in her mouth to keep her calm while I was trying to fill everything out. They had to do an identification photo, and there was no way I was taking her out and pissing her off even more… So this is what my ID photo looked like…

I thought it was hilarious, so I had to have the woman take a photo of it.

The actual DNA test was simple. I filled out a form with my information, name, birthday, social security number, address, etc. Then they took my thumbprint, a photo then they had me sign the form and the picture. Then, they took swabs and I had to sign the envelope those were placed into as well. The form, picture and swabs were all then put into a plastic baggie sealed with tamper tape, which was then put into a FedEx envelope and shipped.

It was easy. Almost felt too easy, like “That’s it?” I remember being strapped to a board when I was a little girl, kicking, screaming, hyperventilating while they drew blood from my ankle. I know it was only a cheek swab, but I expected those kind of feelings.

After, we went to Fred Meyer and Wal-Mart, then headed home.

Now all we can do is wait.

 

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