If you know me well enough, you’ll know that I am hard to buy gifts for. I don’t wear jewelry, I already have all the kitchen appliances there are, and I honestly don’t understand fashion. So, when my husband asked what I wanted for Christmas, I was truly stumped. After an extensive Google search, I found at-home DNA tests. It was the Christmas of 2017, and they were relatively new. Without anything else on my list, I asked for those, thinking that it would be fun to learn more about my family history as well as any medical information that wasn’t in my adoption file.
Lacking Medical History
Doctor’s visits were always a bit challenging. This wasn’t because anything was wrong, but because I never knew what to write on the forms I had to fill out. Yes, my mom has a history of breast cancer, but I’m adopted and share no DNA with her, so I’m pretty sure I should put “No”. And no, I was not exposed to drugs or alcohol in my home, but I know that at least part of my biological family has a history of addiction… I’m still putting “No”. The worst part of a doctor’s appointment always seemed to be filling out those forms. I would often leave it completely blank, telling the doctor when they came in that I’m adopted and don’t know.
The worst part of a doctor’s appointment always seemed to be filling out those forms. I would often leave it completely blank, telling the doctor when they came in that I’m adopted and don’t know.
Going Public
I received two DNA tests as each had a different focus. I went through the registration process for each one, but I paused on the page that asked if I wanted my information to be public. There was a list of pros and cons. If I clicked yes, I could link to other people and find relatives, but once that box was checked, it couldn’t be undone. I remember staring at that page for what felt like hours.
I had found my birthmother 15 years earlier on my 20th birthday. She didn’t know my birth father, and I had never considered looking for him. First, if she didn’t know who he was, I didn’t know where I would even begin. Second, he didn’t even know I existed. Why should I uproot his life with this surprise?
For some reason, my curiosity won out. I clicked yes. The next page clarified again that going public was a really big deal and asked if I was sure that I wanted to do that. Again, I clicked yes. There was a third page making sure I was absolutely positive that I wanted to go public. Yes. I am nothing if not curious. After all, what were the odds that it would tell me who my father was, anyway?
“Father”
I waited anxiously for two months for the results. When that email came in, I saw an entry that linked me to a man — “Father”. While I knew it was a slight possibility to discover who my father was (thank you warning pages), I truly wasn’t expecting to be linked to him. He hadn’t filled out his bio beyond his name, and the name was common in my area. I panicked. I spent several weeks pursuing the other maternal links that I had before coming back to this one with my biological father. At some point it occurred to me that if I could see him on my profile, he could log in and see me. This motivated me to try to figure out who he was and explain before he learned about me through the website.
Building a Family Tree
I began with distant paternal links and started to build a family tree with the public information provided on the site. For the next 4 months, I spent all my free time trying to find him. I had to go back five generations, filling in each and every descendant, hoping to find his name. I had over 900 people in that family tree with spouses. I had spreadsheets, word documents, and graphs, but he was nowhere.
There was one child in the original family I had gone back to who had no information. She was the fourth of twelve children, but she was the only one who had no information. She was entered as “Pet”, complete with quotation marks. No other information existed, not even a full first name.
It took someone else going public with their test for me to finally figure it out. Pet was short for Petra. She was 19 and unmarried when she had her first and only child in the early 1900s. She was married at 23 to a man who was 37. He had children and was just recently widowed. Petra died less than three years later, leaving her little girl to be raised by others. She was essentially written out of her family tree. I can only imagine that the scandal of her circumstances led to her family disowning her. Her precious little girl is my biological grandmother. Once I had that critical piece of information, the rest of it fell into place. I found my birth father in the tree and began the next leg of my search.
Wondering and Waiting
Once I knew I had the right person, I looked him up on social media. I verified it was him with his birthday and by locating other members on the family tree in his contacts. I read everything he had written on his page. He had a great sense of humor and seemed to live his life to the fullest. He had three other kids close in age to me. I read everything his children had written too. I had more siblings. This was not something that I had considered when I took the test!
I kept wondering, Who was this man really? Would he accept me? I didn’t know why he would. He was living a whole different life when he met my birth mom. I was fully anticipating that he wouldn’t want anything to do with me. I was prepared to be his dirty little secret that no one else would ever know about. But I still thought that he should at least know I exist and let him decide what our relationship would be.
I kept wondering, Who was this man really? Would he accept me?
Reaching Out
The phone numbers I found for him didn’t work. I was left to message him on social media. I told him that I believed him to be my father based on the DNA test I had taken, as well as a lot of research. I told him that I wasn’t looking for anything from him, but I wanted him to know I existed. I wanted to meet him, but I would understand if he wasn’t open to getting to know me. I left the ball in his court.
He left me on read for several days. I understood. I had months to prepare for this conversation, but I was coming as a complete surprise to him. When he finally replied, he had a lot of questions. Who was my birth mother? Where did I grow up and what was my childhood like? What kind of research did I do? Once the questions were answered, he was all in! We began texting each other daily to get to know one another better. I told him about family trips growing up and he told me about his work and his passions. A few weeks later, we met at an Applebee’s for dinner. He brought his girlfriend, and we looked through childhood photos over dinner. Not long after that night, he told his kids, and I met them as well.
Dreams Become Reality
I don’t know what I was expecting when I asked for DNA tests for Christmas, but meeting my birth father and his family was more than I could have ever dreamed. He has truly become family. He willingly comes to watch my kids’ basketball games and school plays. I’ve been to block parties where I am introduced as his daughter to his friends and family. Hearing my new siblings call me their sister is still equal parts foreign and amazing!
He accepts me. He is proud to call me his.
About the Author
Rachel Mellick is an adoptee who was one of the first babies to be adopted through New Life Family Services in 1982. She met her birthmother in 2002 and found her birthfather in 2018. She has shared her story through public speaking and in text over the years and is working on writing a book detailing how God has guided her adoption story. She loves to bake, to write, and spend time with her family.