Questions re. your private complicated love life that you don’t want to explain to every Tom, Dick, Sally and Mary because you WILL CRY


When you’re pregnant anyone will just ask you intimate questions about your romantic life as casual chat. Also strangers just assume you’re in a relationship with your baby’s dad even though you could have literally been raped or he could have died or you could be a lesbian.

Were you on the pill?

So where’s the dad?

What does your boyfriend think?

Are you going to move in together?

Are you married?

Are you sleeping together?

Where is the dad?

Do you love him?

Did you consider abortion?

Are you dating?

Where’s the dad?

A letter to him


This is how I feel all the time.

I am sorry. I am sorry that I kept the baby and now your life will be changed forever. I am sorry that you might have to move back to the UK and give up your dream of France for a while.

I am not sorry. Use a condom.

I am not sorry that I didn’t have an abortion for you.

I am not sorry when my baby kicks inside me.

I love you. I will always love you. You’re the father of my child and my best friend. But these are all the contraries that I feel.

If I had not been pregnant I would never have seen you again. Although me and her would not have found out, for maybe a very long time, or maybe forever, the whole truth at least. So I would have kept seeing you, until I left Paris or your lies were somehow revealed or one of us bored of the other. I think this baby was a good thing for you. Now you can sort your head out.

I told you that once I had the abortion I never wanted to see you again. You cried but that evening you would be back with her and you would never have had to reveal the lie.

You weren’t there for me. You weren’t there for me when I needed you.

As the abortion date drew nearer and I told you how I felt about it, you said you felt you should be there… to make sure that I went through with it.

You said you could come the Thursday night and leave on the Saturday. The abortion was booked for the Friday morning. I said don’t bother.

You went to the cinema and had sex with her after I told you I was keeping it and you were going to have a child. You had dinner with her mum and you were going to have a child with somebody else.

How can I be with you when I think you would rather be with her? How can I be with you when I know you would lie to save my feelings, for fear I would take your child?

How can I be with you when you would rather be in France than be with me?

But how can I get over you when you come back to my bed? How can I move on when I am at home with a baby on my tit?

I am angry. I think if you want to be involved then be fully involved. Will you buy nappies with me? Will you buy a pram? Will you be there for the nights?

No? Then don’t bother coming back at all.

I’m sorry. I’m not angry.

I don’t need you. This was my choice. I made this decision alone and I knew the consequences of that. If you’re there to babysit sometimes, then great. If not, that’s fine.

I need you. I don’t want to do this on my own. I want to be a happy family. I want us to make decisions together.

What do you want? Just tell me what you want.

I could do better than you.

I would be better off alone.

I don’t want to be alone.

All that matters is this baby and I need to stop thinking about you.

Rotten Luck!


At 21, we are brand new! Ish. After surviving school and puberty and our first jobs and our first travels and leaving home, we continue this adventure with a little more knowledge and experience than we first had at 18, but also a little more breakage. A few grazes and scrapes, a few reminders of what happened, of what could have been; we emerge as young adults a little harder than we were as adolescents, a little more scared. Also, in my case, pregnant. So not really brand new. More used, damaged and unwanted now!

So here’s a little about what drew me to the web to voice my sorry tale, and to share how I deal with the misfortunes and joys of life in, generally, a terrible, terrible way. Sort of like an agony aunt, but giving bad advice. Just a modern Western young woman who keeps getting into a pickle to show you what not to do! And if my silly woeful little tales bring anyone any joy, then that’s probably the greatest thing I can achieve. Because this is basically my online therapy, minus the qualified professional…

As soon as I got pregnant (whilst au pairing in Paris), I felt a real drive to start a blog for a number of reasons. Firstly, I found it hard to find anything online that related to me – everything about pregnancy is about being in a loving relationship with a stable job. There was nothing that reflected my story that I could relate to – being young, single, without anywhere to live long-term.

Secondly, I was going through a hard time (a real bit of rotten luck!) – I had just found out my boyfriend was still with his previous girlfriend, and I was moving back home to England without a job, education or anywhere to live. Therefore I felt it was personally important to write everything down, to get my head round everything, and also to help others in a similar situation by letting them know they are not alone.

And thirdly I wanted to create a sort of scrapbook portfolio online. There is no real theme to this blog, except to share my feelings and experiences, so it’s also a great space to put up photos, ideas and arts-and-crafts work for me to look back on and maybe even to give others ideas. I hope this can appeal to lots of young women and men – mums, dads, students, young workers, the unemployed, anyone! – anyone who feels alone and wants to know that there are other people just as lonely and silly and uncertain about everything as they are!

The way I see it, if you want the rainbow, you gotta put up with the rain – Dolly Parton

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