Growing up without a father is never easy. Growing up not knowing who your father is makes it that much more difficult. For as long as I could remember, my mother told me tales of how my dad was a graduate student from Yale who was working his way towards a brilliant career as a lawyer. She would tell me he was 6" 2' tall, had blonde hair and green eyes. She swore I had those same green eyes. "Just like your father" she would always say. Well, of course she would say this since mom had brown eyes and the information she recited to me year in and year out was the only knowledge she ever had of my biological dad. You see, mom was artificially inseminated. Yep! I was a test tube baby!
Growing up, I didn't have a clue as to what that meant exactly so all I really knew was that my physical features must have come from dear old frozen Pop. In junior high, I argued constantly with everyone, not in a mean way, but always arguing my point whether right or wrong. Mom would say that meant that I, too, would become a brilliant law student like my dad.
In high school, I knew I wanted to go to college and then law school directly afterwards. I excelled on the debate team, bringing home first place medals more often than not. I prided myself on being just like my father. As time marched on towards graduation, I knew I wanted to meet my dad somehow, someday. I even asked my mother where I was conceived so I could visit that clinic and find out the name of the man who contributed to my being here. Mom wouldn't say. For some reason, she just didn't ever get around to telling me no matter how many times I asked. The summer before I began law school, Mom passed away from a fast moving small cell cancer. The loss of my only parent, my only family really, left me feeling alone and cast adrift in the world. I had no anchor. There was no one to call to share all my accomplishments or even just to say "I love you". My first year in law school was the biggest struggle of my life. I almost gave up, and then I met Troy.
Troy and I started out as study partners but eventually, we realized there was a deep attraction to each other. I shared my life story with him and he, in turn, shared all his growing pains with me. We became intimate in a way that I never knew two people could be. Troy was tall, athletic, blonde-haired and brown-eyed. I don't know if I could have made it to the second term without him.
Things got serious and he popped the question. I said yes! Our plan was to finish law school first, then marry. He called to tell his parents the news and it was during that time that I began to feel the loneliness creep back into my heart. I had no one to tell besides friends. Mom didn't have any brothers or sisters and her parents had died many long years ago. It was then that I started thinking about the man who was my biological father. I knew that I wanted to find him if only to just say "hello, I'm your daughter". It never entered my mind that he might not want to know me.
I shared my thoughts with Troy and like the wonderful guy he is, said he would help me however he could to find my father. That's my rock! No wonder I love him so!
I decided that hiring a professional private investigator would be the smartest thing to do but wasn't sure if I could afford the luxury. Troy offered to help, of course. He made me promise that I would let the P.I. do what he needed to do and that I would not let it consume me.
"We have wedding plans to make!' he said. "And you still have to meet my parents. I just know they're going to love you as much as I do!"
As always, he made me smile and I felt that nothing bad could ever happen to me with Troy by my side. So plans were made. The meeting with the P.I. went on schedule and information was given along with a copy of my birth certificate and everything that I knew about my father that my mother had told me. The P.I.'s name was Henry Weston. He was not one for many words but the ones he did speak seemed to come from a great deal of thought. I knew he would think first before acting and I liked that about him.
"It might take some time. We're talking months to maybe even a year." he said. "Fertility clinics and sperm banks don't like to volunteer information. Donations are always given on a strict basis of confidentiality".
I said I understood. He gave me that look that parents give their kids that says "Yea, but do you really?"
"You have to be prepared that we may never get an answer or maybe he, whoever he may be, won't want anything to with you. Can you handle that??
Again, I said yes, nodding my head and trying to look as if I truly could handle that if it came to pass.
We shook hands and Mr. Weston promised to call me when he dug up some information for me. Meanwhile, Troy and I had made plans to visit his parents in two months so they could meet their future daughter-in-law. I felt as if my world were becoming complete. I felt happy and optimistic. I wish that feeling could have lasted longer that it did!