I am 30 years old and have had eight kids. One passed mother’s day in 2001 from what they called Crib Death, as we slept in our hotel room next to one another. When I was 12 years old, My cousin kindly (or malliciously) let me know that he who had been raising me was not my daddy. Later my mother confirmed that this was true and proceeded to give me a picture of a man who she claimed was my “real” dad. Three years later, she was drunk with her sister and let slip out that my father was different man than the one in the picture that I’d been carring around. In fact, the real father of mine was her sister’s boyfriend at the time I was concieved.(OOOuuuu) I found him on my own years later and sent him and his family a picture of me which they agreed, was not of their blood! One more time I asked, now my mother says, “I just don’t know” and I promised never to mention it again because she spilled such regretfull emotion during the admission of being a slut. 2005, I was reunited with my uncle, you know the one who was always in jail when I was growing up, so I never really knew him, and he pointed out a very interesting fact. . . he thought that he knew who my daddy was the whole time, the man who every weekend would take me into his home with his wife and step daugter Kimberly, and make me feel like I was royalty. Many weekends I spent with this family to escape the constant fighting and yelling that my parents displayed. I want to ask mom, but can’t due to my promise, so now I am on a new search, for the third potential father, Jody Hawkins. . last I heard was in Virgina. . .where are you Jody? Are you my daddy?