Convinced that our son wasn’t his, my husband insisted on a DNA test. When the results were ready, the doctor called and disclosed something horrifying 
After raising our son together for fifteen years, my husband abruptly said:
– I’ve always been skeptical. The time has come for a DNA test.
Even the thought felt ridiculous, so I chuckled. But my humor rapidly faded when we really went to take the tests.
It took place on Tuesday. Together, we were eating dinner. He suddenly gave me a glance that made me feel cold inside.
I didn’t want to harm you, but I’ve wanted to say something for a long time, he said. I don’t look like our son.
However, we have talked about the fact that he resembles your mother! — I attempted to protest.
— Still. I’d like to take the test. Or we’ll separate.
I cherished our son and had a great affection for my husband. Since I had only ever loved him and had never dated another man, I was positive of my faithfulness. However, we went to the clinic and provided the samples for their comfort.
Within a week, the results were available. I was summoned by the doctor, who wanted me to come right away. I could feel my hands shaking in the corridor. He looked up from the paper when I walked in and stated gravely:
You should take a seat.
— Why, physician? What’s there? – My heart was racing.
Then came the words that completely upended my existence…
— Your son’s biological father is not your husband.
But how is that possible? — I nearly let out a cry. — I have consistently been dependable. I had no one else!
The doctor groaned heavily:
— Yes, and there’s more that’s peculiar. Additionally, you are not this boy’s biological mother.
Everything darkened in front of me. It was unbelievable to me.
— What do you mean? How can that be?
“That’s precisely what we must ascertain,” the physician stated. To rule out an error, let’s run the tests again. After that, we’ll attempt to look through the archives to determine what transpired.
We repeated the tests. The findings supported the same conclusion. I felt as though I was living in a fog for two weeks. My husband remained silent and gave me a suspicious look, and I sobbed at night while cuddling my son.
We started looking into it. We looked through historical hospital records in an attempt to locate physicians and nurses who had previously worked there. A lot had been lost, yet gradually the picture emerged.
After two months, we were informed that there had been a baby exchange in our maternity hospital. We were given someone else’s boy instead of our own child, who had been inadvertently delivered to another family.
The fact that such incidents have previously occurred at this facility was the most frightening aspect. We discovered indications that the administration had attempted to hide the errors.
I was at a loss for words. The son I cherished was not of my ancestry. But he was still my child.
It took my spouse some time to accept it.
And somewhere in this world our true child is living — and perhaps he too is growing up in a stranger’s family.
