Science Enters In

I had spoken with the mystery man and he was no longer a shadowy figure--he was an animated, gregarious, concerned, relevant figure in my story and he just might be my actual biological father. I was convinced he was the man identified as my "alleged" biological father but only science could determine if my genes truly were related to his bloodline.

I had ordered our paternity test from Genetrack while speaking to him on the phone and they were quick to dispatch the tests. The test I ordered was a simple mouth swab: I would swab the inside of my mouth onto two different "giant Q-tips" and he would do the same. We overnighted our swabs back to Genetrack and within 5-7 days, we would know conclusively if we were, in fact, biologically related.

The tests arrived the day after our initial first contact phone call and we both swabbed right away and Fedex'd the packages back to the lab. Once the samples were both received, the countdown clock was ticking. I obsessively checked my password-protected tracking site at Genetrack each day and by the seventh day, I had worked myself into quite a state.

I called Genetrack. They were friendly, helpful and honestly seemed apologetic when it was finally related to me that our first test had been inconclusive. 85-90% of tests are conclusive on the first run, but, of course, in our case, they would need a second run. It would be 5-7 more days before we would have an answer.

Ordinarily, this might have been a bit frustrating to me but I would have waited it out in quiet desperation. However, Eric and I were leaving for a week in Mexico the following morning and I did not expect to have internet access while we were away.

It was here that Genetrack endeared themselves to me. Understanding my intense need to have the results as soon as they were available, the agent I was speaking to promised to call me himself as soon as he had the results. I was confident my cell phone would work in the area of the Yucatan we were visiting and significantly relieved by his pledge.

I called my mystery man and explained the situation. We had another long talk, this time mostly focused around wonderful memories he had of tournaments that he had played in Mexico over the years. Notably, he mentioned that he had shared my letter with his oldest daughter who was not surprised that I had found him and whose response had been something along the lines of How many more of these people do you think we should expect to find you, Dad? He didn't seem to think she was surprised or disappointed, just resigned to the fact that her father had always been the ladies man that she knew him to be.

The following morning I boarded a flight to Cancun with anticipation for a wonderful week in the sun with dear friends and anxious excitement that the final results of our paternity test were just around the corner. Whether he was truly my birth father or not, he continued to pledge that he would help reunite with my birth mother because that relationship was not in question. He assured me that the physical likeness between me and the woman that he had loved so many years before was undisputable. He was definitely the person who had been at the hospital and definitely the person who had been interviewed: the only thing still in question was the genetic link.