I became a mom when I was nearly 20-years-old.
That was the best thing that ever happened to me. And now, Rita is almost 2-years-old and I feel like having another baby. From all of my experiences the best one so far was childbirth. And though it wasn't easy, I want to do it again.
I think Rita will make a wonderful big sister.
I'm only 21-years-old now but I feel I'm ready, despite the fact I have no career of my own. I know it's yet to come.
I feel great as a mum and I consider this role as my biggest achievement.
Let me tell you about the time I was pregnant and how Rita was born.
When I first came to UK, I was 18 (soon to be 19), and I stayed with my cousin. It didn't last long. I moved out after four months. And I consider this one of the best decisions of my life.
I moved to a pub where I got hired as a barmaid/waitress. I worked there and lived above the pub for only two weeks when I found out I was pregnant.
After a month I decided I need to get out of there—too many people knew (I used to trust people too much—I was so lonely I spoke to everyone in there), and it was getting awkward and problematic.
After a Spanish couple, Ana and Nata got fired, I knew it was time to get out.
My love, the father of our child got me in touch with his friend who lived in London. I decided it was good to move to the capital, since there was the best public transport and loads of hospitals, while in the countryside that I lived in the nearest hospital was in Oxford. The trouble was, at that time I was without a car—it got confiscated when I was on my way home from closed GP practice. It happened on a Bank Holiday Monday. The police took the car because it was not insured. I wish I had known the law so strict—I would have waited for my paycheck and bought the insurance. But apparently it was meant to be. I actually thought about it few days ago. I think if I wasn't banned from driving (ie could afford a very expensive insurance), something bad would have happened and Rita would end up growing up without her mother.
Anyway, at first I was crying a lot. I was confused, scared, didn't know what to do. We gave ourselves a weekend to think about it—I almost booked an appointment at an abortion clinique, but then we spoke on Sunday. I'll never forget that.
I asked him, "Can we keep the baby?"
He said: "Yes, we can."
And I was like: "Ok, let's do it then, let's keep it. I want to keep this baby."
And he replied, "Ok, let's keep it."
The decision was done. Since then everything was clear, and we were actually very happy. When he replied I was at work, behind the kitchen counter, and there I started to dance and scream with joy... It was a Sunday, English Mother's Day—what would be a better sign after all?
So I started planning my moving. I was searching for a job in London, and it wasn't easy..
At the end of April I went to London to see the options with M's friend. Then he came and we visited a couple of places, but decided to get the one I viewed as a first one—a room in a Polish family's house.
I got back to the countryside. I gave a notice and moved out...
To be continued.