I was 16. He was 24 and reassured me that he was never a risk to other women, so I should trust him – without a condom, notwithstanding I was mid-cycle. And so I did, letting him “spread my legs” (as some women like referring to) to show me how it’s done. It was over in a few seconds; he was on drugs or alcohol and surely was very disappointed at all the hype about sex but was worth something to write in my diary. After all I was no longer a virgin now.
Fast forward two weeks, and now, single, my period was late. Never was it late and I knew something was off. I could not possibly be pregnant. I cannot be that unlucky. I did mess around during ovulation and yes, I am unlucky in general. A test confirmed I was indeed pregnant.
My world crashed and I immediately wanted this thing to go away. I come from a very strict family who I constantly seem to disappoint. They never supported me or were ever kind to me. I knew, from that instant, that I was alone. Being underage made everything look so difficult. I had nowhere to go or to talk to, so I called my so-called ex, only to trigger his defensive reaction.
Within a few days or weeks, everyone around me was a wreck. I am an embarrassment, I am a whore, I should be ashamed. You need to get married. You embarrassed us and shamed the entire family. I was the cause of all the pain on my family. The ruining of their reputation, the misery – it was horrible. I felt so guilty yet so sorry for myself – how could I possibly be so stupid and so naïve.
Then it started – the hints, the pokes, the brainwashing. I am too young for this baby, unless you get married there is no way you are having this baby. All they hoped for was for me to miscarry, checking on me every day hoping I did. I was called the most horrendous names by my own parents.
My medical appointments were turning into: “are you sure you want to keep this baby? We can discuss options..” Indeed, I was given ‘options’.
Then came the so called ‘father’s decision’. “I can cover all the expenses, do whatever is necessary but you do not need to go ahead with this pregnancy. I will fix everything and will make it go away”. I looked at him in disbelief, shocked and dumbfounded to say the least. I was not only being crashed by the rest of the world, but the ‘other half’ was also backing out of this situation. I recall replying, “it is one thing not wanting me, but not wanting the baby is another totally different story.” Sounded unreal but I was not ready to give up. At that moment he made it very clear to me, that if I decide to go ahead with this, he was not part of this decision or responsible for the baby’s life. And that was it, I left his side and never looked back.
My body my choice – right? Yes, indeed it is and so I made a choice.
Clutching my tummy, and telling my baby; “me and you .. we are going to make it, alone. Somehow you will never ever be any less than any other child. I will promise you to love you in a way no one has ever loved me. I am going to give you the world.”
With the “father’s” verdict and my decision to go-ahead, my parents’ disappointment hit rock bottom. I was not only having the baby, but I also refused to get married or even be in a relationship with the traitor.
The echo still haunts me to date:
You are keeping the baby? You want to do it alone?! Then go ahead and do so because “INT ĦA TRABBIH u ĦADD IKTAR” (meaning that only I will be raising the child no one else) and that kept being said to me over and over again like I was heading into a lifetime of punishment because my choice is leading me to raise my kid alone and my choice will only ruin my life. Yes, my choice, yes, I am having the baby. Yes, I will do it alone.
And so, they kicked me out of the house. I was 16 going onto 17 by now, penniless, homeless and alone.
Fast forward two decades, we have made it. Very successfully. I raised a gentlemen, very well educated with a promising career, working on his dreams. While I worked hard, graduated with honours and invested in property, I made sure I fund and support my son’s aspirations. We travel, we dream and we live happy, together, just the two of us. I dedicated my life to him because I chose to.
ADVOCATING PRO CHOICE
While in senior school, I was called in by the head and his teacher to explain how my introvert son stood up in class during the “abortion” subject and voiced his opinion. He went from being the one who rarely uttered a word to speaking above the teacher.
“I am the result of an unplanned pregnancy. My mother is one of the strongest persons you will ever meet. She proved to me every day how much she only wanted to give me the best. How much she loves me, how much she will never give up. I can never brush the feeling of being a burden, but she reassures me that having me was her decision. And she makes sure I know.”
“My mother is a legend” he continued, “but because she chose to keep me, it does not mean others can or should. Women should have a choice for the sake of their child’s future. No one is the same, no one has the same character, background, or strength for that matter. I would rather be torn apart when I was a cluster of cells and that would be it, rather than being born unwanted and spend a lifetime feeling rejected or forced upon someone.”
With this, both myself and the teacher were in tears. She informed me how they could not continue discussing the subject and how everyone was stunned at this and needed time to digest what they just heard from this good and quiet boy.
I have never ever brainwashed my son into having opinions, but I am proud today to see him advocating for women to have a choice. He also criticises how contraception is not spoken the same for men as it is for women.
The ones who insisted I should consider abortion, now call themselves “pro-lifers”. The hypocrisy! They see the result of this “unwanted baby” and feel nothing but pride now. What they forget is that I CHOSE .. and chose to have my son and yes, because yes, I was the one “li kont ha nrabbih” u infatti jien waħdi rabbejtu!
Please, stop deciding for others. I am against the principle of aborting beyond the first trimester but will NEVER EVER impose on someone that they should do or do not. Għax huma ħa jrabbu! They will be the ones facing a life changing decision and unless I am ready to take on the responsibilities, I am the last to ever voice a decision for someone else.
My son plans to one day write a book – possibly we do it together. This is merely a fraction of our story and I hope one day I will inspire someone with our journey.
Do you have an experience you’d like to share with us at Wham, either in your name or anonymously? We’d love to hear from you! Contact us or send us an email at [email protected]
