Not all women are made to be mothers, but I felt from the beginning that only one child would fulfil me as a woman. Unfortunately, it wasn't to be and I lost several pregnancies. That led me and my husband to divorce, but the divinity had other plans with us. Now, we are the happy parents of two children, and the third is on the way!
I'm an ordinary woman, beautiful, but a little too "plump", not to say fat. Julio, my high school friend, liked me and I like it anyway. We started a family, we have our own apartment, a small cleaning company, that is, we go to the clients' homes and do an impeccable cleaning, the two of us and, sometimes, my two sisters. We already have loyal customers, we know how to manage ourselves in such a way as to cope with the demands and not to disappoint them. So, we're doing well. We invested and bought professional tools, we work only with organic products, which we buy from Hungary, from a company that we personally checked.
We take holidays depending on the clients, one week at a time, not more, and we travel. We saw wonderful places and we took care to document ourselves, to see how things are going in our field, in the countries we visited. We are up to date with all the news.
We would have every reason to be happy. But we are missing something, something we both want just as much: a child. Julio seems to want a child more than me because he is alone with his parents and he would like us to have at least two children. We are three girls with our parents, we always got along and helped each other, we were close to both good and bad. My older sisters are married and each has a child.
I was 29 years old and already lost two pregnancies. The doctors didn't know exactly why. For a while, things went well, and then, suddenly, the pregnancy stopped evolving.
I started to be afraid to try again. I thought maybe something was wrong with me, maybe I couldn't have children. Julio tried in his own way to drive away from my dark thoughts but in vain. He tried to take me to the best doctors, and when he saw that nothing was going well, he asked our bishop to bless me and asked him for me and for our future child.
I didn't know what else to do and I was so desperate. It just so happened that I got pregnant again and was afraid to have an abortion. I was afraid to go through everything I had been through again, but I thought I had to try at least once more.
The first three months had passed and I finally had the courage to give everyone the big news. But that day, when we were all gathered at our parents' house, my father gave us the big news:
"We're divorcing! Now you are mature people, you have to understand, we can't stand each other anymore and it's a shame to stay together, to argue endlessly and to bitter our old age."
My mother supported him. I knew, from an early age, that they quarrelled quite often, and even my father would hit her sometimes when he was too angry and drank an extra glass. My mother never complained, these things happened when we were not present, but a neighbour told us about it, to whom my mother told her several times.
"They stay together for you, it's a great thing, but know that, for your mother, especially, it's a torment. You should help her somehow."
We wanted to have them both with us, we loved them just as much, so we pretended we didn't know anything. But things probably got worse, especially after we left home, and our parents broke up. They sold the apartment where we had grown up and each bought something smaller, my father, a studio, and my mother, who brought her grandmother, two rooms.
We all shrugged and helped them move. After they settled in and we inaugurated their houses, my contractions started and. I lost my pregnancy again. The child was dead again. The doctors refused to tell me what it was or to show it to me. My mother felt guilty for a long time, I tried in vain to convince her that it was not true.
Our parents had been doing much better since they had broken up, they felt like two good friends, and both of them moved on forward with their lives. It was a real pleasure to see my mother laughing at my father's jokes.
After a while, I told Julio that maybe we should think about adopting a child. One of my sisters offered to be a surrogate mother to us, but we couldn't accept it. It seemed too strange to me, no matter how much the doctors tried to convince me that such things happen frequently nowadays.
We went and inquired about the adoption, gathered a lot of papers and submitted the necessary documents. After a year of waiting, nothing had happened yet, even if we knew from a lot of sources, even from TV, that in all maternity wards there are a lot of abandoned children.
"Maybe we're not destined to be parents," I told to Julio. Maybe we should get used to this idea.
After a while, my older sister gave birth to her second child, and then the middle sister. At the baptism of the children, whom I wanted to be the godmother, I kept crying. It seemed unfair to me that I could not do what any normal woman does, that I could not give birth to a child.
Julio and I were so upset that we started arguing over trifles and making all sorts of reproaches, and in the end, we decided to break up.
He left me in the house, and he moved. We kept the company and saw each other at work, where we behaved civilized.
At one point, Julio confessed to me that he wanted us to divorce because he wanted to rebuild his life. The woman he was going to marry already had a baby and was expecting another, but it didn't bother him.
We divorced quickly, at a notary, we shook hands, like two good friends, and it remained to decide what to do with the company. Julio suggested that we keep it as it is since everything was going well. I agreed. Of course, it hurt me terribly to know that Iulian was living with someone else, but I had also made an important contribution. Most of the time, I started arguing, I was the one with the mood for scandal.
Stay tuned for part 2!