I always knew I’d be a mother one day. As a little girl I dreamed of living in a big house with six children playing in the backyard. When I married my childhood sweetheart I had no reason to doubt that dream.
But after 12 years of marriage and still no children, the dream was in tatters. My biological clock was ticking rapidly and my marriage was on the rocks. David had wanted children just as much as me and we both felt unfulfilled without them. So we decided to seek help.
The fertility specialist said David’s sperm count was too low and we had no chance of having children naturally. We kept trying, getting our hopes up only to have them dashed month after endless month.
I never blamed David but I know he blamed himself. He became withdrawn, emotionally and physically, and the wedge between us grew bigger and bigger. We still loved each other, but it wasn’t enough to get us through the depressing reality that we would never have children of our own.
On my 38th birthday, I decided to do something about it. I wanted a baby of my own before I was 40 and I was going to go out there and get one. I thought about having an affair but quickly dismissed that idea. I still loved David and couldn’t cheat on him.
The only other course of action left was artificial insemination with donor sperm. I investigated my options and thoroughly checked out the procedure with several clinics until I settled on one.
Six weeks later, when I showed David the home pregnancy kit with the two little pink lines on it, he was over the moon. He cried with joy and the wall that had slowly built up between us crumbled in seconds. I’d never seen him so happy. But for me the experience was marred by my guilt. I’d started a lie that I’d have to continue for the rest of my life.
My little miracle, Eric, is beautiful. He has blond hair and a pointed chin like me, and green eyes like his father. At least, I assume they are like his father’s. When my mother-in-law commented that green was a rare colour and didn’t appear in either of our families, I began to panic. Surely she suspected something!
But I managed to convince her that my late grandfather had green eyes and since there are only black and white photos of him in existence, she can’t prove otherwise. Still, I was in constant fear that she would learn the truth.
It wasn’t until Eric’s third birthday that I realised my guilt and fear were unnecessary. Sure, I’d lied to everyone, including my adorable son, but everyone is so happy. David and Eric are wonderful together. My favourite weekend activity is to watch the two of them playing in the park. My husband is a wonderful father and role-model to our little boy.
The way I see it, a little person has entered this world and he will be loved, cherished and given every opportunity in life that we can give him. In turn, he has made two people incredibly happy and enriched the lives of every member of our circle. What more evidence do I need that I have done the right thing?
Picture: Getty Images. Posed by model.
Your say: Does the happy end justify the dishonest means in this confession? Have your say about this true confession below…
Related stories
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
