It was to be the trip of a lifetime. My boyfriend Connor and I were to spend two years travelling around Europe after finishing school. We had spent six months saving so we could do some travelling before settling in London to earn some pounds to fund our future travels.
Three weeks into our trip, somewhere on the train between France and Switzerland, it all went wrong. They say travelling together helps you decide whether you are meant to be together, and it became clear that we weren’t. Little disagreements turned into big fights and by the time we reached Zurich, Connor was going on to Italy and I wasn’t going with him.
The next day I scraped together some precious euros to fly back to London, and straight away I found a share flat with a French girl, Leticia, and a Scottish bloke, James. We soon became close friends. I found plenty of temp work with my great administrative skills and within a couple of weeks was earning quite good money.
I was so busy socialising, working, discovering all the new things London had to offer, that it took me a few weeks to realise that my period was late. Very late. The tests showed that I was nearly three months pregnant, and it was clear that it was Connor’s, as I hadn’t been with anyone else since we broke up. I had received a few e-mails from Connor. He was partying hard in Greece and planning to go to Turkey the following month. I knew he didn’t want kids for a long time yet and telling him about the pregnancy wasn’t going to accomplish anything.
The deadline for me to have a termination came and went, and I realised that, although I wasn’t ready to have a baby, I had to give it a chance at life. I contacted some adoption agencies and received plenty of advice and information.
Leticia and James were really helpful throughout my pregnancy, helping conceal it from my family back in Australia and covering the rent for the three weeks I had off work. Leticia held my hand as my daughter was born, two days early, healthy and beautiful. I held her, kissed her gently and cried as I handed her over. I knew she was going to a family who could give her far more than I could.
A year later I returned to Australia with enough pounds to put a deposit on a house and memories to last a lifetime.
Connor and I got back in touch a few years ago and he confided that he had needed a couple of years travelling and seeing the world before he settled down. He had always known I was the love of his life and our break-up was one of the hardest things he had ever done. We married three years ago and I am now pregnant with our third child. I always count our first daughter to myself when I think of my children, although I have never told Connor about what happened in London — he still thinks we only have our son and another baby on the way.
Perhaps one day I will tell him, but for now I plan to make the most of the family I have got.
Picture posed by models.
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