The day started like any other; morning came, met me lazing around and left. Late afternoon met me fed and doing the dishes. Just as I finished, my phone rang. Spotting the callers ID, I groaned. I hadn’t spoken to her in a month and after our last conversation had hoped I’d never again have to. I answered the call and looking back, wish amongst other things, that day had turned out differently.
“Hey. What’s up?”
“I’m pregnant and I think it’s yours.”
In one seemingly eternal minute, my mind went back to the first and only night we’d spent together. Our relationship had officially ended two weeks before. She was supposedly a virgin and I hadn’t planned to sleep with her but in 30seconds of madness, I planted life in her.
I remembered the last time I’d spoken to her. She’d called the day before worried because she’d missed her period and didn’t know what to do. She called that day to say it wasn’t what she’d thought; it was only an infection. I remember freaking out and falling ill, my sickness induced by the thought that I too was infected.
I remembered why the relationship ended. She’d wanted to get married and I hadn’t, not to her. All the time we were together, I suspected her of cheating. I lied, told her I never wanted to get married and she vowed to change my mind.
All this I remembered in a minute.
I asked her what next. She said she didn’t know. I told her I wouldn’t support an abortion, she said she wasn’t considering it. 9 months passed, months of arguments, unwavering looks of disappointment from parents and family, months of external pressures on me to marry her. I stuck to my guns, I couldn’t marry her. If the relationship didn’t work out, then marriage most definitely wouldn’t. Marrying the man that got you pregnant for want of a ‘better’ option or marrying a woman for responsibility sake, is erroneous at best. Those months were extremely difficult for me…but considerably more so for her.
At times I considered encouraging her to terminate the pregnancy but in the end, decided to let God make that decision for us. This may sound crazy but miscarriages happen, people give birth to stillborn children, babies die every day. If the baby wasn’t meant to be, it wouldn’t be. I couldn’t shake the thought that if we had an abortion, we might never again have the chance to be parents. Ever. Being pregnant and unmarried was one mistake. I didn’t want to make another by having an abortion.
I am single, she is now married and has a daughter in addition to the son we share. A recurring ‘issue’ in my relationships is my son. It’s a massive consideration for any woman looking to spend the rest of her life with me. I’ll be honest, it has crossed my mind how much less complicated my life would be if I’d encouraged her to abort. Yet, however I think about it, it would have been the wrong thing to do.
I have friends who regret making that decision. They see little kids and can’t escape the question, “what if?” Funny thing is, the same thing happens to me. I see little kids and ask myself, “what if?” For all the regrets I have, the decision to have my son isn’t one of them, for when life presents itself at its most hopeless, hearing him say “I love you daddy” always, always brightens my day.
This is a factual account of Mr Anonymous’ experience and I’d like to thank him for sharing his story with us. Thanks buddy!