As he grew older, I told him more- to begin with, only when he asked me a question, but slowly, I’d tell him things as I remembered them. I tell him the good things and the funny things that I can remember. And my family does the same. I tell him some of the “bad” things as well so he doesn’t think the man is superhuman or something!
I always think of my son’s father, at least a little, around Christmas and on my Damien’s birthday. Until Damien was about 7 years old, I did my level best not to think about his father at all. I had nightmares about him showing up and demanding to see my son- and for all that time, I never spoke his name out loud. It was only when I found myself working with three men with his name that I realized I was incapable of saying it. He had always been “him” or “you-know-who” or “Damien’s father” up till then.
So I got help… not immediately, but I got help. At first I tried to fool myself into thinking Damien may need help with having no father- but the psych I was seeing told me Damien was very well adjusted and very healthy and didn’t seem to have any problems with who he was and where he came from. I was the one who needed help dealing with it all. The one thing is that bugs me more than anything else- and on a regular basis- is that I cannot complete Damien’s family tree in any photograph albums or in his baby book. And every year from grade one to seven he had to do one for school as well. I know his father’s name, and I know his paternal grandparent’s names… but I just cannot seem to write them down and acknowledge them all as part of Damien’s family. Is that strange? I figure that since he isn’t on Damien’s birth certificate or on his christening certificate- that until he meets him one day, he isn’t part of this little family.
I pray with all my heart that by some miracle Damien can have his Disney movie reunion with his biological father one day (he refers to him as his “dad”- I have never thought of him that way) and all will be right with his world- even if I don’t have to speak to or see him.
Then when Damien was about two weeks old- he called the house.
I’ll never forget it- I went completely cold when I heard his voice on the line. For a split second, I thought maybe he wanted to see us and make something of his role as Damien’s biological father- but he didn’t even ask after him. Or me for that matter. All he could talk about was the motorcycle his parents had given him for Christmas. I was hurt and angry all over again, and I knew I had not been wrong about our future. I asked him to stay away from us, and I said that I would leave him alone and that he should leave us alone and we could all start over again. Simple? Yeah right.
Well, he agreed- and please understand me- I will ALWAYS be grateful to him and his family for sticking to that agreement. Many, MANY times I have considered tracking him down to talk to him- especially as Damien gets older and starts asking more and more questions and talking about his father more, but I never follow through with it. I never wanted to give him the impression that I wanted or needed him around. Tracking him down would be more for my own peace of mind than anything else- I have always told Damien that if he wants to, I’ll help him find his father when he’s 18 years old but not before. Contemplating contacting him is because I want to know what he’s going to say to Damien if he contacts him one day.
What “could” happen is one of my greatest fears. Maybe he decides he’d rather not get to know Damien at all. Is he going to tell him that? Maybe he decides to tell him our story differently to what I’ve told him. I mean, I KNOW we won’t remember things the same way. I have told him a lot about what happened when we split- obviously not everything- but enough for him to understand a small inkling about why I broke off all contact with his paternal family. And he does want to meet his father one day. I half hoped… wished he wouldn’t want to- that I would be “enough” for him. You see, I resolved- before he was born- that I would not lie to him, that I would tell him as much of the truth as I thought he could handle. Like when he was in nursery school and the other kids asked him where his dad was- I just said he should tell them you’d gone to marry someone else. Little kids can sorta understand that.
It’s been a long time coming- but I’d like to tell my whole story for all you all!
I was sixteen and a half years old. My boyfriend and I had been together for 10 months when I realised I was pregnant. I knew all about sex and babies and condoms… but I was in love! I also had a fabulous home life, so it wasn’t as if I was looking for affection that I didn’t get at home. I truly don’t remember telling him I thought I may be pregnant- but I do remember when we told his mother. I wanted to speak to my mom first, of course… but my boyfriend was in a hurry and told his mom- who was a midwife. She bought the pregnancy test- which still took an hour back then- and I went home and waited. My then-boyfriend called me with the results! I begged him to come over and at least just hold me or something…
When my ex told his mother I thought I may be pregnant, she gave me an injection; to either abort an early pregnancy or to start my period if it was just slow… at least that’s what she said. I didn’t ask what it was and she didn’t tell me. That didn’t work, so a couple days later she gave me two flat, white, rectangular tablet thingies to, um… insert into myself. Again- I didn’t ask- and those didn’t do anything either. If I think now, of the risks I took then, by allowing his mother to medicate me any way she saw fit… I shudder to think about it! And then his mother phoned my mother, and told her she had a doctor all lined up to perform a termination and that she would pay for it all (even though abortion was still illegal in South Africa back then). This was only a week or so after I did the pregnancy test and it was already clear in my mind that- although I hadn’t admitted it out loud to anyone- his mother didn’t want to know anything about my baby. I was still in love with my baby’s father though, and I hoped we could work something out for my son’s sake, even though I had no interest in getting married. Then when he told me about a family counseling session they’d had and how it had come out in the session that my ex’s family thought they had enough to deal with without an illegitimate child in the mix- I knew things weren’t going to work out and we broke up shortly afterwards.
Honestly? I don’t think he should have told me what his family had decided in their counseling session… If he hadn’t, we could very probably had a perfectly “normal” weekend parenting setup with maintenance and shared holidays and so on… But in a way, I think he wanted to get off the hook- and he knew that telling me what his parents had said was an angle he could use, even if it was only subconsciously. I think I was about 10 weeks pregnant by then. We broke up shortly after our first anniversary. There were no lawyers, and there was no paperwork involved. Everything was verbal. I spoke to him a few times again- when we saw each other. After we split, we were still writing our high school exams “together” and each time I saw him I tried to delude myself into thinking that we could at least be friends for my son’s sake.
Then after December, we didn’t see each other or speak again.
10th August – I went to my weekly appointment with the midwife and she said she was worried that my baby might be breech so she arranged an appointment for a scan to check on the Monday.
13th August – I had everything packed for the hospital as the midwife told me to be prepared just in case. We arrived at the hospital and I was seen straight away and I was taken for my scan.
The person doing the scan confirmed that my baby was breech, but there was also no water at all around my baby and that wasn’t a good thing because I didn’t even realize they had broken and then I was told I was 9cm dilated!! I had no pain at all!
They listened to the heartbeat and everything was fine but they insisted on getting me in for a emergency c section straight away.
I arrived at the hospital on the 13th at 11.00 am and was taken into the operating theatre at 6.15 pm.
And at 7.00 pm exactly, my daughter Talia Louise was born!!!!
It all happened really fast but it still was the best day of my life!
I first became pregnant when I was only 17 years old and I had a perfect pregnancy and labor, very beautiful. My mom was a little mad but expected it because I was with my boyfriend ( My Husband Now) for so long that she had figured out we were having sex. At first, it was planned, and then we had tried so hard, and then we stopped planning, and it happened unexpected. I loved being pregnant for the first time; it was amazing. 6 months after my daughter Jazmine (3 years old now) was born, I promised myself to never become pregnant again. Being a mom was soo hard; I kid you not. I did not expect my whole life to change, to lose my friends. I didn’t know all of this would happen to me. Never again, I told myself, lol.
19 years old now and I was on the birth control shot. Who knew birth control didn’t always work, not me that’s 4 sure. I had a job interview and was feeling really weak that day, but I hadn’t eaten anything yet that day. I went to go meet my husband/baby father at his job. As soon as I got in front of his job’s building, I begin to feel really weak and slowly started to fall to the ground. Anyway, I ended up in the hospital. They said I had blacked out, lol. Then the doctor asked my husband to leave the room as she explained to me what’s wrong with me (I was so scared that I had AIDs or something). My husband left and she said well do you know why you blacked out. I said yes because I didn’t eat today, she said yes that and because you’re pregnant, congrats. I said no, I can’t be. I didn’t even miss my period yet. And she said well, maybe you’ll believe me when you start to see your tummy grow and laughed. But I couldn’t even crack a smile if I wanted to cuz I was so pissed off. I told my husband and he never tells me to get an abortion becuz he knows I don’t believe in killing my own flesh and blood. But he didn’t have to cuz I was thinking it already. I made an abortion appointment and never showed up to none, I couldn’t do it. I told my mom I was pregnant again and she begged me to keep the baby, and everybody was actually OK with me having another baby except me. The pregnancy was so bad, the worst. I hated being pregnant for the second time, I wanted it to be over so bad. I was depressed every single day.
LABOR- The labor was soo bad. I started bleeding early in the morning. I was 9 months and I thought I was having a miscarriage, the blood wouldn’t stop. They said I lost so much blood, I had to get someone else’s blood back in my body after I deliver the baby. Then after the baby, they left the placenta in me after I was already stitched up. I didn’t know they left that mess in me but I knew I didn’t feel well. I didn’t even want to see my baby, I was hurting too much. I got so sick and I was in so much pain. When they came to check up on me, they saw how big my stomach still was and opened my legs and begin to try to pool pieces of placenta out of me. I was screaming so loud and kicking and scared to death.
My daughters are now Jazzy, 3 years old, and Jayla, 6 months old, and they are really bad but good girls when they wanna be. I still can’t believe I have two kids wow. And people don’t even think I have one.
I’m fourteen. My birthday is on September 12th soo I’m soon turning 15.
I have just found out that I’m gonna have a baby :/ & I’m nervous, verry alone. As far as the father, he doesn’t know (yet). I’m scared to tell him. He says he’s not ready for a baby yet. I know I will keep him/her & I really want the dad in my life, but that’s his choice. I’m two months as of last Thursday. The baby will be born on April 16th if all goes well 😀 I’m excited as well as scared. I came here to get opinions & support so I’ll do the same in return.
Thanks.
