“You still decided to have the baby without a husband? Aren’t you ashamed, Mom?” — 15-year-old Ann said reproachfully, dropping her backpack heavily on the floor. 😵💫
Her mother, Lia, froze for a moment. ☹️ She had already gotten used to the judgmental glances at her gradually growing belly, but hearing it from her own daughter hurt in a different way. 👇
Lia decided not to say anything and kept the pain from her daughter’s words inside. 🙌 But the next day, she opened the door to her daughter’s room and said something that changed the course of their relationship…
Continuation in the first comment 👇
“Ann, let’s sit down. I have a lot to explain to you,” she said calmly, sitting on the edge of the couch.
The girl reluctantly sat across from her, arms folded over her chest.
“I understand it’s hard for you. It’s hard for me too. I didn’t plan for things to turn out this way. But when I found out I was pregnant, I couldn’t end the life growing inside me.
This isn’t just a ‘baby without a father’ — it’s your brother or sister. And they’re already part of our family.”
“But people will talk! They already are! You’re not thinking about me!” — Ann flared up, her voice carrying the pain she tried to mask with anger.
“I think about you every minute. That’s exactly why I chose not to hide, not to pretend.
I want to show you that a woman has the right to be strong, even when she’s alone.
That there’s no shame in loving, in caring, in giving birth — even if life didn’t go according to plan.”
Ann turned toward the window. For a while, the room was silent. Then she suddenly whispered:
“I’m just scared, Mom. Everything is changing. You’re different, the house feels different, and now a baby…
I feel like I don’t belong.”
Lia approached her, hugged her gently from behind, and placed her hand on her daughter’s shoulder.
“Don’t ever say that. You are my joy. And you’ll always be my strength.
We’ll go through this together. We won’t become weaker — we’ll become bigger, warmer, stronger.”
Months passed. Ann started preparing the nursery, choosing names, even smiling when she felt the baby’s first kicks.
When the baby boy was born — they named him Martin — Ann was the first to hold him.
“Hi, little one. I’m your big sister. And you know what? Mom was right. We’re no worse than anyone else.
We’re a real family.”