When I got pregnant, I was at the height of my career. I didn’t want this baby. Thought about getting an abortion. My family and husband were against it. They talked me out of it. My man assured me he would provide for me financially, but that wasn’t what I cared about. I liked to work and develop. Pregnancy, childbirth and parenting were not for me. It means I need to close myself in four walls and degrade. But the pressure of relatives was too strong. I gave in to their entreaties. I went on maternity leave and waited for the birth.
I did not like taking care of my son. The man ran around happy. He would come in from work, tell interesting stories and babysit his son for an hour, no more. I stayed with my son twenty-four to seven. I forgot about a normal sleep, because I got up to the child six times a night. The man never once. He kept saying that he had to work in the morning and that he needed to sleep.
My in-laws didn’t help either. They only cared about the fact that my son was born, and taking care of him fell completely on me. I did not want this child. I constantly missed my work and the collective. I never saw my girlfriends. I really wanted to go out, if only for thirty minutes for a cup of tea. My husband disregarded my wishes. He said I was a mother, so I had to stay home with my child.
Four years had passed. I divorced my husband. He didn’t help in marriage to look after child, he only taught me. After divorce, he paid alimony. Never came to see my son. When I asked my parents to baby-sit my son, they only agreed for two to three hours and not always.
The more time passed, the more I hated my child. My whole life went wrong because of him. I gave up a good job, my marriage fell apart, and my relationship with my family deteriorated. That child didn’t do me any good.
My son was growing up. I worked a lot. I was rarely at home. I did not want to see him again. I couldn’t start a new relationship. Men were frightened that I had a child.
