My boyfriend and I began dating in August 2012. We had met online, in person the next day, and just had this connection. I had been in relationships before — I had been engaged. His longest relationship was about three months. Needless to say, this was a little different for him.
Fast forward two months. Things are going great. I’m working as a waitress, he’s in school and planning to move closer to me after the semester ends. Since I had quit smoking a few months before and was no longer running due to hip problems, I was, admittedly, gaining a bit of weight in my stomach. Not much, mind you, but enough to make customers ask, “How far along are you?”
Before I go on, a bit of background: I have amenorrhea, meaning my periods are irregular. Like, one period a year irregular. I had been told by doctors I wouldn’t have children without medical intervention. So the questions peeved me a little, and I decided to take a test. Then I took two tests. Then six. All said the same thing: positive.
Two days later I finally get into the doctor for a checkup. Expecting only to be a few weeks along, we had decided to terminate the pregnancy. Lo and behold, my uterus measured at 5 months. By the time I got in to ultrasound three weeks later, it was determined that I was actually 34 weeks pregnant, 31 at the time I had found out.
At this point we had decided on adoption. The child, of course, wasn’t his, and he didn’t feel comfortable taking care of a baby at this point in his life. When I saw my son, I knew I couldn’t do it. Guys, let me tell you: It. Was. Rough. Crying and begging and hugging and compromising and pleading that I couldn’t give up my baby, and I was not willing to end the relationship.
Finally, it happened.
My son was born December 14, 2012. My boyfriend was in the room with me until I made him leave as I started pushing. As soon as he was allowed in, he came back and told me how proud of me he was. We went home together two days later, as a family, and now are about to celebrate our first anniversary. He has been nothing short of amazing to me, and to my son Aiden.
Aiden will know that my boyfriend is not his biological father. He will also know how much more this means to his mommy: he’s not here because he has to be, he is here because he wants to be. That kind of love and dedication, the willingness to put aside DNA and open your heart, is what makes a family.