Making Connections: Expectations, Experiences and Revelations

By Elly Dotseth

Elly Dotseth, a passionate truth-seeker and inspiring storyteller, invites you on an extraordinary journey of self-discovery in her riveting memoir, "Making Connections." Nearing her 70th birthday, Elly's world is turned upside down when a DNA test reveals a long-hidden family secret: the father who raised her is not her biological father. As the COVID-19 pandemic engulfs the globe, Elly delves into the complex world of donor conception, grappling with the emotional, scientific, and social ramifications of her newfound reality.

With a keen eye for detail and a talent for unraveling the threads of the past, Elly weaves a captivating tale that explores the very essence of family, love, and identity. In her quest for answers, she uncovers the truth about her origins and embarks on a remarkable journey to connect with the relatives she never knew existed. A fearless advocate for truth and transparency, Elly's story will resonate with anyone who has grappled with the complexities of their own family history, as well as those who seek to better understand the impact of the donor conception industry on the lives it touches.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Sep 30, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350905014

Book preview

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© 2023 Elly Dotseth

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Print ISBN: 979-8-35090-500-7

eBook ISBN: 979-8-35090-501-4

Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Afterword

References

Introduction

My life has had a lot of unexpected surprises that have caused me to continually reevaluate who I am and who I want to be. I have had to learn to be mentally flexible and to not expect that all will go as planned. Most of those who are closest to me know me as a creative, inquisitive person with a quick wit and a deeply ingrained sense of right and wrong. I love to learn new information, even if it changes my views. Everyone’s life has ups and downs and mine has been no exception in that regard. I never had a quick answer when someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up.

Being born in 1954 automatically came with restrictions from our society. Girls were not allowed to take certain classes in school. In my case, girls had to take home economics classes in junior high school and were not allowed to learn wood-working skills. In high school, girls had to wear dresses or skirts, and not shorts or slacks or jeans. We were allowed to play sports like field hockey, volleyball, and softball in physical education classes, but not competitively (at least not in school). Career wise, girls were still not the candidates to learn auto mechanics, train as emergency medical technicians or firefighters, or to become police officers. We were steered toward supportive roles like secretaries, nurses, stay-at-home mothers, maybe school bus drivers, and certainly elementary school or high school teachers.

This is the story of the parents who brought me into this world, loved me, and guided me through my first eighteen years. My parents were an integral part of my life well into my adulthood. Both of them lived into their nineties and stayed married until my dad died at the age of ninety-six! Since I left home at the age of eighteen, I have had relationships with hundreds of people and have had many, many experiences that my parents had no control over. These additional experiences have, of course, changed my points of view and continue to shape me as I now approach my seventieth year of life. I hope you learn something new by reading about my experiences, and that it inspires you to learn more about your own unique existence.

Chapter 1

Beginnings

I was born in Minneapolis, Minnesota, USA, on June 7, 1954. When I was three years old, and my sister was an infant, my mother allowed the twin teenage girls who lived near our house to watch me while my mother stayed at home with my infant sister. One day, the twins wanted to take me to a neighborhood store. (This is one of my earliest memories.) My mother told me I could go with them only if their own mother was going to accompany us. I asked the twins if their mother was going with us, and they said, Yes. So, I reported this answer to my mom, and my three-year-old self went out with my babysitters. But their mother did not come along.

Upon my return, my mother had discovered that indeed the twins’ mother had not gone with her daughters and me. My mother thought I had deliberately deceived her, and I was spanked hard and was told that I had lied to her, and I should never, ever do that again! It made a huge impression (maybe in more ways than one). I have never been comfortable with telling lies or keeping secrets since then. As some who have known me can attest, that is not always the best call! I believed that my mother and father were always truthful. Keep this in mind as you read the rest of this story.

Throughout my life, my dad’s family was held up as the example of success to which I should aspire. My dad’s paternal ancestors came from a small family with ancestors that emigrated to the US in the 1700s and 1800s. They all came from somewhere near Germany. Their surname was Frohbach. I know there is a place in Switzerland called Frohbach, so maybe the name originated there, but I was never able to find any ancestral trail as proof. My great-grandfather on that side was a cigar manufacturer who emigrated to the US from a port in Bremen, Germany, in 1864. There were several passengers on that ship with the same surname. Some of them settled in New York and some in Wisconsin. My grandfather Harold had one sibling—a sister named Mabel. They grew up in Wisconsin.

My dad’s mother, whom we knew as Grandma Lou, was a descendant of the first British people to sail here on the Mayflower. Her father’s surname was Finch. She was a proud member of the Daughters of the American Revolution, meaning that her ancestors had been living in what is now the United States of America since it was a British colony. Her family lived in Peoria, Illinois. Although her given name was Edith Louise Finch, everyone called her Louise and shortened it to Lou.

Grandma Lou had been one of the three daughters in her family. She lost one sister early in her life. That sister bled to death. My grandmother told all of us that her sister had her periods through her nose. (Creepy, and obviously not possible!) Maybe she had severe monthly nosebleeds? It is possible that she had developed an exceptionally low platelet count, or some other blood clotting disorder. I always wondered if this malady was something that could be inherited. Grandma Lou’s remaining sister was named Grace. Louise went to college, which was rare for women in those days. She became a high school English teacher.

I never learned much about my dad’s maternal or paternal grandmothers. After doing a lot of research using online tools, I believe his maternal grandmother’s given name was Grace Edith Sweet. European society and hence US society has been traditionally patriarchal, so it is sometimes difficult to trace women’s history. Grandma Lou’s father, Louis Finch, was a successful business owner in Peoria, Illinois. Grandma Lou’s father died at the age of ninety, while she and her husband, Harold, were living in Massachusetts. By then, her mother had already passed away. The remaining estate was divided between Grandma Lou and her sister, Grace.

My dad’s father, Harold Otto Frohbach, was from a family we heard little about as we were growing up. Frohbach is the most uncommon name and was difficult for most of my friends and teachers to pronounce. They pronounced it Fro bock. According to my high school German teacher, the translation was happy creek, or bubbling brook. We always heard that it was a German surname, but whenever we met a German national, we would ask if they knew anyone with that surname in Germany, and nobody ever said that they had heard of it! My dad kept a collection of letters addressed to him with his surname misspelled. There were some really funny ones!

Harold and Mabel’s parents had a contentious relationship. There was a divorce, and at one time, Harold and Mabel were taken from their home in Wisconsin to Montana by their father! There was a court case brought against their father for kidnapping, and their father was found guilty! Of course, we were never told about this scandalous activity! I found an article about it while I was doing research on my dad’s family. Grandpa Harry’s father was Hugo Otto Frohbach. His mother was Laura Alfaretta Bjorkquist. She divorced Hugo, and he later married Estella Lucile Moyer. He and Estella later settled in Medford, Oregon.

When Grandpa Harry asked Grandma Lou to marry him, he knew he would have to work hard to earn the respect of her parents. His family did not have the same level of social pedigree as his fiancé. Harry had also earned his college degree and worked his way up in the business world. I know that for a time, he worked in management for General Mills. He learned about the stock market and invested his earnings carefully in stocks. He eventually became the largest stockholder in a company called Chart-Pac and was the president of that company until his retirement. Harold Otto Frohbach sold Chart-Pac to Avery. With Grandma Lou’s family money, and Grandpa Harry’s investments, they lived very comfortably.

Prior to his death, Grandpa Harry had set up trusts for Grandma Lou, their sons, and their five granddaughters. We five granddaughters were expected to go to college, and our grandfather’s careful savings and investments paid for it. At the time we attended the universities, it was far less costly than it would be today, but I knew from an early age that I had to do well in high school and that I would attend a university. This was a family expectation that I did not even think to challenge! We were all incredibly fortunate to have had this benefit of birthright!

When Grandpa Harry decided to retire, he and Grandma Lou moved to Florida and had a beautiful condominium right on the beach in Boca Raton. I do not know how many years they lived in Florida. Grandpa Harry developed congestive heart failure, and when he was only seventy-two years old, he died. I know I was in high school. As I recall, he died during my senior year. Grandma Lou never considered remarrying! She lived alone for the rest of her life (almost another thirty years) in the same high-rise condo by the beach in Florida, never changing the bedroom she and Harry had shared. Grandma Lou was able to live very well after her husband’s death. Her surviving sister also lived in Florida, as did one of her twin nephews, his two daughters, and his son. The daughters especially, were truly kind and helpful to their Aunty Lou.

Louise went to church regularly, hosted Christmas parties for her church friends, and did cross-stitch. Every Christmas, we received a set of handcrafted felt tree ornaments embellished with sequins and beads, and sometimes a similarly made calendar with sequins sewn on important birthdays. She made a complete set for all five of her granddaughters, and one for each of her daughters-in-law. I treasure them!

My parents visited Grandma Lou maybe twice a year. On one visit, when she was close to ninety-six years old, they knocked on her door, but she did not answer. Naturally, they were quite concerned! She had been expecting them, so they called the doorman in the lobby, who hurried up with a key to open the front door. They found poor Grandma Lou on the floor in a great deal of pain. She had broken a bone near her hip and had no way of calling for help! Even after surgery and going to a skilled nursing facility for rehabilitation, she was too weak to do the necessary physical exercises to keep her blood flowing. My parents really believed that she would be returning to her condominium and were making some preparations for her return when they got the bad news. She had died due to a blood clot while still in the nursing facility.

Because my dad’s parents had wealth, everyone in our two Frohbach families put a great deal of effort into trying to live up to the grandparents’ expectations. We cousins were often reminded to be careful not to disappoint our grandparents on our fathers’ side if we wanted any of their family wealth to trickle into our possession! This mostly came from our mothers, who did not grow up in wealthy families. They depended on our fathers for their financial security. It was this story of immigrant ancestry that was the basis of a whole lot of whom I believed I came from. Business success was emphasized, investing in the stock market was key to growing wealth, and education was of paramount importance. Also emphasized by my mother was her belief, that a woman should marry up if she wanted a secure future.