When Caleb learned he wasn’t Lucas’s biological father, our world shattered. I was certain of my own faithfulness—and a DNA test revealed the unthinkable: Lucas wasn’t biologically mine either. Our son, the one whose laughter filled our home, wasn’t born of us. A hospital error had switched our baby at birth.
We soon met his biological parents, Rachel and Thomas. When the boys—Lucas and Evan—ran to each other, laughing as if they’d been waiting all their lives, we realized love transcends genetics. Rachel and I held each other, choosing grace over anger.
We agreed both boys would belong to both families. Lucas remained my son, born of love and devotion, while Evan became part of our lives too, bridging two families.
I learned family isn’t defined by blood, but by showing up, staying through heartbreak, and choosing love. Now, I see not DNA, but two miracles—proof that love, even tested, can grow beyond anything we could imagine.
