The Pain of Betrayal: My Journey to Discovering the Truth

We've all heard the saying "time heals all wounds," but some injuries never truly fade and can even worsen over time. This is exactly what happened to me. For years I had questions about my identity that I tried to ignore, but they only grew stronger. Eventually, as a sophomore in high school, I built up the courage to ask my mother the question that had been haunting me: "How do you feel knowing that I am not biologically your child, yet I was conceived while you and dad were married?"

According to the story I had been told, my father had committed adultery and I was the product of his affair. I couldn't imagine my mother being okay with this.

Initially, my mother became visibly upset, but she eventually calmed down and explained that I had actually been conceived through in-vitro fertilization, with her as my biological mother and a surrogate carrying me to term. However, this explanation only added to my confusion. Why wasn't this the story from the beginning? Why was I told something different before?

As a curious teenager, I began to research in-vitro fertilization to uncover the truth. I learned what it was and how it worked, but my focus was on finding out when the first successful IVF was performed in the US and when the first African American baby was born via IVF. I discovered that Elizabeth Carr was the first baby conceived through IVF in the US in 1981, but I was unable to determine when the first African American baby was born via IVF. My research then shifted to surrogacy, as it was another factor to consider. It turned out that the first successful gestational surrogacy in the US was completed in 1985, two years after my birth. The search for the truth seemed never-ending, and I went from being a trusting individual to second-guessing everything and everyone.

Years passed, and I continued with my life. I graduated from high school, went to college, and started my career as a State Government Employee. In 2006, my life changed forever when I became a mom. Although my journey to parenthood wasn't what I had envisioned, my son Xavier was my blessing. My pregnancy wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, but it brought my mother and me closer. During this time, she asked me questions about my pregnancy and how I was feeling. One day, she asked me what it was like to feel my baby moving in my belly. I described the feeling as if an alien had entered my body and I no longer had control. It was then that she told me that although she had been pregnant multiple times, she had never gotten far enough along to feel the baby move. I realized that my mom was living vicariously through me, which brought us closer together. When I gave birth to my first child on 9/3/2006, Xavier was her baby and I had no issues with that.

Less than a year later, I decided to move to Atlanta and leave my baby behind, as recommended by my mother. My plan was to get settled and then go back to get my baby. However, life had other plans for me. I moved to Atlanta, began working for GA State Government, met and fell in love with a man, and got married all within 16 months.

It was now 2009, I was a married woman, my second child was just born, and my husband and I had just become homeowners. Life was good, until one day I received an anonymous letter in the mail with no return address or name. It was postmarked from Charleston, SC. Inside the envelope was a card with a message that read, "Hi Jessica, you should talk to your grandmother or your aunt about your birth mother." The card also contained a newspaper article about adoption.

I felt like I had been hit by a ton of bricks. Why would someone send me this? Who knew my new address? Even when I tried to escape it, the mystery surrounding my identity found me.

To be continued....