No one in our families was happy about such an early addition. Anna found out we were expecting a baby when she turned seventeen, and becoming a mom and dad at that age was scary for us. My mom was too pious to decide to have an abortion, but we talked for nine months about giving up the baby in the maternity ward anyway. Whether our parents agreed or not didn’t matter, because it was our life and our future.
We continued to date all this time and loved each other very much, and somehow over time I even began to enjoy taking care of a pregnant girl, touching her rounded belly and talking to the baby. I felt sorry for Anna during the birth, I almost fainted there myself, but the ordeal only brought us closer together. As we were going to, we wrote a waiver right after, but at first the nurses tried to change our minds. To help us think better, they left the newborn girl in our room. I watched Anna awkwardly touching her, nursing her, and my heart was torn with injustice.
How could it be, we had gone through so much, Anna had gone through so much, and now we were going to give the little miracle to someone else?
Good thing she was the first to give in and asked me if I wanted to take the baby away. I was afraid to ask, thinking there was no way she would agree to take someone and be a real family. Our daughter was our good reason to play a wedding in the next six months and reconsider our outlook on life. We both now live not only for ourselves, but also for the baby, and it has made us even closer than we were before.
