23October2025
I walked out of the gynaecology clinic feeling utterly bewildered. The paper in my hand still read Pregnancy78weeks. How could this have happened? Had I missed a pill? What am I supposed to do now? Im fortythree; the thought of giving birth at this age seems absurd.
The drive home was a haze of thoughts. At a traffic light I barely registered the cars moving forward until the driver behind me blared the horn. Once inside my flat, I threw myself into chores, hoping the housework would drown out the panic.
After lunch, Emily popped round for a quick visit.
Mum, Ive got a surprise for you! she announced, perched at the kitchen table.
Come on, give it to me, dont keep me waiting, I replied, curiosity sparking in my eyes.
Emily, Sam proposed to me! she beamed, her smile lighting up the room. And I said yes!
Tears welled up as I wrapped her in a hug. Hes a smart, driven, balanced young manjust the sort of lad youd hope for your daughter. At twentyfive hes financially stable, independent from his parents, and theyve been together for almost three years. Ive seen enough of his seriousness to be convinced he truly cares for Emily.
What about the wedding? I asked, pouring us both a cup of tea.
Not sure yet, she shrugged. We havent set a date. Probably next summer.
Will you tell your father? I pressed, looking straight at her.
I dont know, she muttered, frowning. Honestly, Id rather not.
Im sorry, love, but you cant just shut him out, I chided gently. Hes your dad, he loves you. I know youre hurt, but people separate; that doesnt mean you have to cut ties. I forgave him, and you should try to, too. And make sure you invite him to the wedding.
Emilys face hardened. Mum, how can you say that? He left you for someone else! He spent a whole year flirting behind your back with his secretary! How could you ever forgive him?
I sighed. We spent twentytwo years together, raised a wonderful daughter you and had many happy years. Im grateful for that, but he fell for another woman.
Your heart cant be commanded, Emily, I tried to explain. What was I supposed to do? Throw a fit, hide my anger, hate him forever? For what because his feelings cooled? It sounds ridiculous, doesnt it?
I dont understand, she whispered, shaking her head. If Sam ever did something like that to me, Id I dont even know what Id do!
I stopped arguing; her fiery nature would never see my point. In my younger days, these things seemed different.
When Emily left, I returned to the kitchen, washed the dishes, and pulled out a piece of meat from the freezer for dinner. My mind kept returning to the unexpected pregnancy, trying to puzzle out my next steps. Giving birth at my age, and without a husband, felt terrifying, yet the longing to be a mother again, to nurture another life, tugged at my heart.
I pulled an old photo album from the shelf, flipping through pictures of Emily as a baby in a onesie, smiling wide in her grandmothers arms. Later, a photo of her older, in a pretty dress at the city park, reminded me of the day she fell off a swing, broke a knee, and was left with a thin scar that still shows. Another showed little Emily in firstgrade uniform, clutching a bouquet with her parents, while my husband Simon then just Simon stood solemn beside us. I even found a picture of myself, thin and young, in a light suit with a highheeled sandal, my hair in a nowembarrassing bob.
One snapshot captured Emily in Year5 playing SnowGirl at the school Christmas concert. I had sewn her a silver dress and rabbitfur coat after finding nothing suitable in stores; three sleepless nights at the sewing machine paid off.
Another showed the whole family Simon, Emily, and me on a beach in Spain, sunkissed and happy.
A wave of sadness washed over me. I once believed we had the strongest, most united family in the world. Simon and I used to be inseparable, sharing dreams and plans. Over the years, Emily grew, achieving one triumph after another. Simons career advanced, we finally finished building our house, bought a car, and travelled a lot. I opened a boutique specialising in wedding gownsa dream Id nurtured for years. It all seemed endless.
But there was a dark thread through it all: after Emily, I could never carry another pregnancy to term. The first ended in miscarriage; the second reached fourteen weeks before a scan revealed severe fetal abnormalities, forcing me to terminate. I spent a night in the hospital, sobbing, before deciding I would not try again.
Looking back, the irony wasnt lost on me. Once I had youth, a supportive husband, financial stability, and the burning desire for another child. Yet fate handed me an unexpected pregnancy now that everything else had fallen apart.
When Simon announced he was leaving, it wasnt a shock. Id long suspected he had a lover; he denied it, calling my suspicions wild imagination. I panicked, launched a fullscale campaign to win him back, even suggesting couples therapy which he dismissed as a waste of time. I read advice columns, tried heartfelt conversations, even performed a striptease at home. Nothing worked. A month ago he packed his bags and left, soon filing for divorce. After a long, painful conversation, I finally accepted it was over.
I never understood what he found in that new woman Olivia, a young secretary with glossy lips, long lashes, and a plunging neckline that made my skin crawl. I asked him repeatedly to replace her; he shrugged it off.
You think I care about how she looks? Shes efficient, clever, and I cant afford to lose her now, hed say, We have enough problems at work already.
I sensed there was more to it than just a convenient employee. Later, my suspicions proved right he had swapped me for a siliconeenhanced doll, shattering years of building a life together.
I tried to move on. Simon left me his city flat, which I still lived in, while he moved to a country house with Olivia. The thought of a stranger living where we once shared memories where Emilys childhood unfolded infuriated me. Yet Id agreed to stay in the city for the sake of convenience and because Emily and Sam lived nearby. The feeling lingered, gnawing at me despite my best efforts.
The following weekend, I visited my old friend Nancy, who Id known since our children were in the same nursery. She welcomed me with a bottle of whisky.
Lets have a proper tipple, Laura, she winked, pulling out two glasses.
Thanks, but I cant, I replied. Im pregnant.
She raised an eyebrow. So youre still seeing Simon? Or have you found someone new?
Who else could it be? This baby is Simons, I said, gesturing to my belly. We had one night about two months ago candles, wine, lace It didnt go any further than that.
Nancy shook her head. Youre a mess, love. Its too late to have a baby now. Raising a child alone at our age is hard enough, let alone with a toddler. You might want to think about maintenance payments
Maybe youre right, I sighed, finding some solace in her bluntness.
After saying goodbye, I drove back to Emilys place.
Hi, Mum! she shouted, beaming. Come in. Want some coffee?
No, thank you. I need to talk. I asked about Sam.
Hes at his parents fixing the garden.
I told her about the pregnancy.
Mum, do you really want this baby? she asked.
Yes, I do. Im scared, though.
What does the doctor say?
He says everything looks fine; the baby is developing normally. I lost two children in my twenties, but the cause was never clear. Im terrified of going through that again. At my age, they say pregnancy is risky, and Ive read horror stories online.
Emily took my hand. You need thorough checks, Mum. Trust the doctors, not the internet. Many women have healthy babies after forty these days. If youre fit, why not try?
I nodded. Maybe youre right.
She smiled. Whatever you decide, Sam and I will support you. Youre not alone.
Later, after several appointments confirmed I was healthy, I decided to keep the baby. The thought of telling Simon crossed my mind, but he seemed irrelevant now. Wed met only a couple of times since the divorceonce when he collected a box of belongings from the flat.
Half a year later, he turned up at my boutique, claiming he needed some paperwork.
Lara, I cant find the house documents. They must be with you. I called, you didnt answer. Did you change the locks? he asked, eyes flicking to my rounded belly.
I changed them, I replied calmly. What did you expect, that Id let you waltz back in whenever you felt like it? Weve settled this.
He smirked. Looks like youre busy married already?
No, Simon, Im not and I never will be again. My life isnt your concern.
He huffed and left. Later, he ranted to a colleague about the babys gestation, wondering who the father could be.
The next day Olivia strutted into his office, demanding a lunch out. He brushed her off, telling her to go alone if she wanted anything.
When my son, Daniel, was born, Emily and Sam were there with Nancy and a few of the girls from the boutique. Sam took the baby in a blue blanket, eyes wide.
God, hes tiny! he whispered, cradling him gently.
Hes adorable, Emily cooed, smiling at her little brother. He looks just like you, Mum.
Just like you, I laughed, tears spilling over.
We returned home to find Emily had turned one spare room into a nursery, festooned with colourful garlands and balloons, a big banner over the crib reading Happy Birthday, Daniel!
The baby was healthy, and I felt a newfound vitality. Days slipped by in a blur of feeding, diaper changes, and short walks in the park with Emily watching over Daniel.
Looks like youre already a seasoned mum, Emily! I teased.
I love it! she replied, winking at Sam.
A few months later, the doorbell rang. Simon stood there, a bouquet in hand.
Hello, Laura, he said, extending the flowers.
I didnt take them. Hello, Simon. What brings you here? I asked, arms crossed.
I know Daniel is my son. Nancy told me.
Thats irrelevant now, I replied.
He pleaded, Im sorry, Laura. I was a fool. I want to be part of Daniels life. Will you let me?
For a moment I recalled the hope Id felt a year ago, when I might have taken any of his words. But the old proverb rang true: He who betrays once will betray again.
No, Simon. Its too late, I said firmly, stepping back and closing the door, locking it.
He shouted, I have a right to see my son!
He kept coming, lurking when I pushed the pram, begging forgiveness. Yet I stood my ground. He attended Emily and Sams wedding, stayed just long enough to hand over a generous cash gift before slipping away.
Later I learned hed married Olivia, only for the marriage to crumble within months. She left him for someone else.
Now, as I write this, I stare at Daniel sleeping peacefully, his tiny chest rising and falling. The road ahead is uncertain, but for the first time in years I feel a quiet strength. I may be older, I may be alone, but I am a mother againand that is enough.
