Page 3 of His Long-Lost Baby
“I know, but I can’t help but feel like I should’ve known about this before. Like I should’ve been more prepared,” I say with a sigh.
“Girl, you have such bad mom-guilt that it’s crushing.”
I laugh. “Yeah.”
“Hey, you know what?” she says. “I just heard about something the other day. It’s this genetic testing app that’s been getting a lot of buzz. It’s supposed to be really accurate and easy to use. Want me to send you the link?”
I hesitate. “Genetic testing?”
“Yeah, you get your results right on the app.”
I watch Quinn follow a butterfly around the yard, her ice cream dripping down her hand. “What sort of results?”
“What you’re talking about — medical predispositions. But also, you can find family on it.” She pauses. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” I cringe.
Monica clears her throat. “Would it really be that bad if you found some of Quinn’s relatives?”
I swallow, trying to ignore the knot that forms in my stomach. “I don’t know. I mean, what if they don’t want anything to do with us? Or what if they have expectations or obligations or—”
“Stop, stop,” Monica interrupts. “You’re getting ahead of yourself. You don’t even know if you’ll find anyone. And if you do, you can take it slow. You can assess the situation and decide what you’re comfortable with.”
I let out a shaky breath, realizing that she’s right. “Okay. Okay, send me the link. Thank you, Monica. You’re the best.”
“Of course, Billie. Anything for you and Quinn. And hey, I’ll be over soon with that white wine. We’ll have a good dinner and forget about all this stress for a little while, okay?”
I smile, feeling grateful for her unwavering support. “Okay. See you soon.”
After we hang up, I download the app and fill out the required information. Once I submit a sample, the company will begin analyzing Quinn’s DNA and searching for any potential relatives. I try not to think about the possibility of discovering someone who is biologically connected to her, but my mind can’t help but wander. Would they look like her? Act like her? Would they want to meet her?
Monica is right. I can’t live in a world of what-ifs.
And I need to think of my priority. Quinn’s health.
I finally feel a glimmer of hope. Maybe this app could give me some answers, some peace of mind.
I watch Quinn a little while longer, marveling at her boundless energy and infectious laughter. She deserves the best possible care and protection, and I’m determined to give her just that.
The butterfly Quinn has been watching leaves the yard, and my daughter comes over to me. Her ice cream cone is nearly gone, and she throws it in the trash.
“Mommy, can we play a game?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
“Sure, sweetie. What game do you want to play?”
Quinn thinks for a moment before grinning widely. “Let’s play hide-and-seek!”
I laugh. “Okay, but we need to stay in the yard. Don’t leave it. You go hide and I’ll count to ten.”
Quinn runs off to find the perfect hiding spot, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breath. As I count, my mind wanders back to the genetic testing app. What if it really did find a relative of Quinn’s?
What if it found her dad?
A chill runs through me. There was no father listed on her birth certificate, and her birth mother said he didn’t want to be involved.
Which is beyond sad. After my own relationship past and then ending up raising a kid as a single parent, I really feel for Sara, Quinn’s bio mom.
The poor woman. She didn’t even live to see Quinn reach three months old.