Share your joys and sorrows with your family.
a fortune cookie
Some days I just cannot fathom how I will spend the rest of my life cut off by my biological father and his family. Worth nothing more to them than a stranger on the street when I want so badly to have some small connection.
I hear myself saying that I will never make it. That I’m close to the edge and someday there will be an unexpected push. My children are what keep me going. Therapy. Medication. I’m doing the work and trying so damn hard every day.
I wait for it to get easier, and I suppose it has, but there are constant reminders of this grief. My feet tapping out the beat to every song I hear and now knowing my biological father and his sons are all talented drummers. The love of and talent for art that I share with my oldest son, which we inherited from my biological father, an artist. I cannot escape the rejection because I cannot escape him and the truth. He is part of me. He is part of my sons. He always has been and always will be.
I felt whole and hopeful with him in my life as a good friend. I could even accept my surprising donor conceived status. But what I confront every single day now is nearly unbearable. It. Hurts. So. Much. And I cannot understand what I did to deserve this.
A Donor Conceived Adult 