Some of you will condemn me for what I did, and some might even laugh at me. But let me tell you that to some, my story can be a helpful lesson. I’m Linda, 56 years old, and a few months ago, I found out I was pregnant…
The news was as shocking to me as it was to my family members. I had assumed that, at the very least, my daughter and son-in-law would understand my situation, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. They began laughing at me and thought I was making up stories out of boredom.
“Oh, come on, mom! This is not the age to crack such jokes!” my daughter told me. However, when I showed them the ultrasound scan, all doubts and skepticism were instantly dispelled.
To be honest, I was in no rush to break the news to my family that I was expecting a baby. Not only because I was afraid of being judged but also because I myself was not fully aware of the situation. Yes, that’s true. I didn’t even know who the father of the child was.
I got pregnant at 56 years of age | Photo: Shutterstock
For seven years, I have been living alone. My husband left for his heavenly abode soon after our daughter was born, and our daughter got married and moved out with her spouse a few years back. Because I was alone all the time, I had some short-term affairs.
When I found out I was pregnant, I broke down. I didn’t know what to do or where to go. I just knew that there were three candidates who, as far as I could ascertain, could have been my child’s father.
The first was my lonely neighbor, Mr. Black. He was a widower and a nice man. We had been connected by strong friendship for several years, and I recently felt drawn towards him. Michael, a 46-year-old salesman from the bakery behind my shop, was the second person. With him, everything was like in a movie; just some obsession overtook us, and we succumbed to it.
The third was a young guy who worked in my shop with me. I sincerely hoped he wasn’t the father because I didn’t want to ruin that boy’s future.
I was confused whether I should continue the pregnancy | Photo: Pexels
I had never been in such confusion my whole life. At one point, I even thought of terminating the pregnancy, but it was my daughter who told me not to do so.
“I don’t know what to do, Clara,” I called my daughter one day and told her. “I think terminating the pregnancy is the best option!”
“No, mom,” Clara suggested, “don’t make such hasty decisions. I’m there with you even if nobody supports you.”
“But honey, what will I tell everyone? I don’t even know who the father of this child is. If I decide to go forward with the pregnancy and give birth, I’m afraid everyone will judge the child throughout his life,” I said.
“Why do you care what others will say, mom? Don’t think that you’ve committed a sin by getting pregnant. As far as society is concerned, they always have something to talk about. They’ll talk about it for a while and then find something else to talk about!” Clara said.
Clara advised me against terminating the pregnancy | Photo: Pexels
“But honey...” I began speaking, but Clara cut me off.
“See, mom. Don’t stress about it. If you don’t want to have this child, that’s completely fine. But if you’re planning on terminating the pregnancy because of what others will think, please don’t do that. In the worst case, Josh and I will raise the child as our kid...Mom, are you there?”
“Yeah, honey. I need some time to think about it. I’ll call you later,” I said as I hung up the call.
After I got off the phone, I sat for a while, wondering what to do. It’s not like I didn’t want the child, but I was afraid of what others would think. I was awake the entire night, debating whether or not to proceed with the pregnancy. But in the end, I opted to have the baby.
A few weeks later, I applied for maternity leave, and soon everyone learned about my condition. The young guy who used to work at my store filed a letter of registration the same day, and I never saw him again. Was he the child’s father? I wondered.
I decided to have the child and applied for a maternity leave | Photo: Pexels
Everyone in the neighborhood had been talking about my pregnancy, so Michael and Mr. Black found out about it as well. Michael insisted on assisting me until the child was delivered, but Mr. Black chose to adopt it.
“See, I’m not going to put any pressure on you to raise this child,” I told Mr. Black and Micheal while the three of us were waiting for a DNA test outside the clinic. “My daughter and I have decided to raise it together even if nobody supports us.”
Micheal stayed quiet, but he was honest with me. He had already said that he would provide financial help, but he didn’t want the child. He’d also stated that the decision to have this child or not was totally mine. But when it came to Mr. Black, he said he was ready to love the child as his own. “I don’t care whether this child is mine or not, Linda. I will give it all the love it deserves.”
Needless to say, I hadn’t received so much attention from men ever since my husband passed away. But that’s not important here. You’ll be surprised to know who the biological father was.
Mr. Black and I moved in together and started a family | Photo: Pexels
According to the DNA test results, it turned out that Mr. Black was the biological father. Honestly, I was over the moon when I saw the results. Motherhood in itself is a beautiful feeling, but having a family who loves and supports you while you’re expecting a child feels like a blessing.
Mr. Black was equally happy when he got the news. We started living together, and only three months back, I delivered a lovely baby girl. We named her Adiel; it’s a Hebrew name that means “ornament of God.”
All thanks to my daughter Clara. If she hadn’t encouraged me to have this child, I would not have had such a lovely family.
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