Even as I'm warned against digging up ghosts, I double down on my pursuit to uncover the identity of my real biological father by bringing in a professional.
I uncover the scale of the lies and deceit that characterized infertility care for decades. Maybe I’ve been searching in the wrong place all along.
My search for my father takes me overseas. And I speak with someone grappling with their own emotional fallout around family revelations.
When I track down the doctor who treated my mother in the 1970s, I'm left with the uneasy sense that a minor medical procedure done four decades earlier has life-altering ramifications.
A DNA test turns up some shocking details about my identity. It means that everything I thought was true about my father could be wrong.
As a kid, my biological father was in and out of my life. Then, he disappeared entirely. When I finally found him again, it left me with even more questions.
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