When my husband Paul took a DNA test and found out he wasn’t our son Austin’s father, our world fell apart. I was sure I’d never betrayed him, so I took a test too—only to find something even more shocking.

Paul and I had been together 15 years, married for 8. Austin’s birth was the happiest moment of our lives, and Paul was a devoted father. But Paul’s mom, Vanessa, always claimed Austin didn’t look like Paul and pushed for a DNA test. Paul refused, trusting me, but Vanessa was relentless.

Then one day, Paul came home with DNA results proving he wasn’t Austin’s father. I was devastated and insisted I hadn’t cheated. Vanessa said she’d taken samples herself—from Paul’s toothbrush and Austin’s spoon—and the results were accurate.

I took my own test to prove the lab was wrong. But it said I wasn’t Austin’s mother either. Confused and terrified, we went to the hospital where Austin was born.

The hospital admitted there had been a baby mix-up: another family’s son was with us, and our biological son was with them. We contacted the other parents, Sarah and James, and met with both boys.

Austin had been raised as our son for four years, and we loved him deeply. Sarah and James felt the same about their son, Andrew. We agreed to stay in touch, united by a strange and painful truth.

Despite everything, we were grateful to finally know what really happened. Our boys were still our sons in every way that mattered.