I’m a huge sentimentalist when it comes to my son, Noah. Duh. He’s my sweet boy with the cartoon-bright brown eyes and the effortless joy and curiosity and the earth-shaking smile. I stare at him with wonder multiple times a day, and as he approaches his third birthday, I can’t believe the novelty hasn’t worn […]
Ever experienced a tornado? I have. I’m the father of a 2.5-year-old boy. Like a tornado, he often strikes without warning. And while he may rage for a short duration, the damage left in his wake can be catastrophic. Our furniture, our walls and of course, my testicles, can all testify to this. We’re making […]
If you’ve spent any time on this blog, you know two things: 1. I’ve been through an ordeal, and 2. I write like someone who wants you to feel it. Indulging my psychological torment isn’t really how I prefer to pass the time, though. I like to think I’m more than the craziest thing that’s […]
The word ‘shock’ lost its meaning for me a long time ago. But even I didn’t have this on my bingo card. On May 28, I learned that Dr. Morris Wortman, my biological father and my mother’s fertility doctor, was killed in a plane crash west of Rochester, NY. Dr. Wortman was the passenger in […]
It’s late and my inclination to self-edit and polish my words on the way out of my fingertips is non-existent tonight. So stream of conscience is what you’ll get, because I’ve been eager to update you. Last week, I and six other offspring of fertility fraud (mom’s doctors = our biological fathers) partook in two […]
In August this year, my brother CJ took his life. It’s been five months, disorienting as that is to write. The permanence and the suddenness of it still defies words, and because words are how I make sense of the world, I’m still not sure how to digest the act of his suicide. I’ve certainly […]
10 months ago, I confirmed that Dr. Morris Wortman, my mother’s fertility doctor, is my biological father. Two weeks ago, I sat in front of the TV and watched myself on Good Morning America as I discussed that and more with Nightline anchor, Juju Chang. If you’ve been following along, the above is both a concise summary of all […]
If you invested any of your time and energy with me while my story was unfolding, I owe you an apology. Eight months ago, I buried the lede about the biggest revelation of this ongoing story, and then I disappeared. Spoiler: my biological father is, in fact, my mother’s fertility doctor. I could bore you […]
People told me parenting would be hard. No one told me it might be because I wouldn’t feel particularly connected to my own child. Or that shaming myself into silence for feeling that way would only make it harder. It was the 4th of July. After struggling to hand-feed my stubborn 14-year-old diva Shih Tzu […]
The nurse hands me my son. He’s minutes old, hued in that familiar, faint purple newborn flesh. I take his tiny body in my hands, which seem massive in proportion, and bring him to my chest. He’s draped in standard-issue hospital swaddle, no longer crying as his tiny cheek and the small O-shape of his […]
