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Natalie - 22nd March 2009

I never planned to have a child so young, let alone be a single mother but here I am writing and telling you my story. I feel that every Father should have the opportunity to have a life-long relationship with their children, but I'm a mum, on the other side of the fence, where the Father of my little boy doesn't want to be involved.

I met my child’s Father; A, through a friend and we hit it off. I probably slept with him too soon, but at the time that’s all I was concerned with. I fell pregnant and by the time I'd developed more into the pregnancy, it was too late since we had already split. Although I believe every child should know mum and dad, I didn’t want to be with A. My son was born on the 19th of September in 2004. I informed A and he reacted badly. I was fortunate enough to have the amazing support of friends and family and I coped… just. I received text messages from A. I just hope the ones I sent back to him were polite and to the point. Although at this point in time, I barely remember what I sent. I kept the ones he sent.

To be honest if he spoke or saw me writing those texts, he wouldn’t ever have asked how I was keeping. I had to take walks to write those replies. So many emotions ran through me. Many of the texts that I received from him were very confrontational, he had a knack of avoiding the responsibility and I did receive one from his girlfriend (at the time). Eventually we arranged to meet. 17th October 2004 at half past seven in the evening.

I remember walking in and feeling tiny. If my sister hadn’t been there with me, I would have bolted. I was shaking, I couldn’t talk. I got a drink of lemonade and we stood at a tall table while I looked around to see where he was. I remember feeling myself walking over to him, only I didn’t, I was still standing next to my sister. It’s strange what you think you do and what you actually do in situations like that. He gave no support, instead, he sat there and stared. The ground felt like walking on jelly as I made my way over. I’m surprised I even made it. We sat and we talked. He never once asked about our son or how I was coping. I did most of the talking and after all the effort it took me to get the words out, he never clarified what he wanted to do. He never gave an answer either way.

We had to do the DNA test, and he delayed and delayed and delayed it. Eventually he decided that he would give his sample, so finally my son and I were able to give ours on the 25th Nov 2005. My local GP was going to charge me £30 to take the test there, so I had to travel to another surgery. As if the whole ordeal wasn’t bad enough. By that time I was suffering hugely from depression. I was unable to move out of my parents place and I was under the ever-intensive scrutiny of my parents and sisters. Everything I done was wrong. Nothing I did was right and for those illogical reasons, they refused to write one simple letter to say that they were kicking me out so that I could finally have a place to raise my child the way I needed.

The DNA results dropped through the door on the 18th December 2006 or there-abouts. All I could think was that he’d gotten a great Christmas present. Yet I doubted myself too. Those few moments before opening the letter I doubted what it would say and what I would have to do. The results only confirmed what I already knew - A was the biological. Things from that point got worse. I hadn’t heard from A for 14 months almost to the day and the relationship with my family deteriorated. My depression got deeper and the arguments, I’m ashamed to say, more and more violent with words. The doctor just kept signing prescription after prescription even though I was getting deeper and deeper into the slippery slope of depression. I had no chance of any help and no one to talk to. There was no lifeline and I was drowning. No one noticed and no one cared. One night, my darling son saved my life. He laughed in his sleep. I'm privelaged to have experienced the development of all the little things that make it worthwhile being a parent. Things eventually got better and by June 2006 I had my own place and within weeks the depression had almost disappeared. Now and again it does rear its ugly head but I’m now confident enough to talk myself out of it. Plus I have some amazing friends now.

What of my Son's dad? well, he has chosen his path and I do honestly hope that he is happy and is having a good life. If he decided at any point in the future that he wanted to see my son, I would never stop him. He has just as much right as I do. Although I would get him to meet me first to check that he had his head and heart in the right place. Me? I date, I'm beginning to live my life and yes early dates were very wrong people but now, I am more and more aware of the people that I should talk to and form relationships with. I don’t plan to marry or have any more kids. Phillip, my beautiful son, is growing and keeps surprising me. I wouldn’t change my path, after all, would I be the person I am today if I had a different path? I have to say, no parent should miss the wonderful moments i've had with Phil and for any parent, whether they be a Mother or a Father has no right, no right whatsoever to deny their children the right to get to know both sides of their family. I hope you publish this so that "part-time" dads can read the effects that being selfish and denying their children can have and I hope all the dads who are fighting to get contact with their kids have a long and beautiful relationship with thier children, somehow.