Our confidential tale spans 15 years, and now, I’m ready to share it, knowing my husband is aware, and it’s time for others to understand. Before giving birth, I took an extensive 26-day break—a kind of mega holiday before the imminent sleepless nights.
Oksana, a 21-year-old from a middle-class family, unexpectedly found herself pregnant. Living with her parents, the child was unplanned, and her father, displeased, didn’t advocate for marriage. It was a common predicament, yet somehow, we avoided discussing it in detail.
Oksana, despite facing criticism and challenges, remained composed. She mentioned only once that her mother desired the child while her father showed little interest in teaching her to ride a bike.
Our conversations deepened, and a friendship blossomed as we shared moments and treats. However, during a routine examination, a pivotal question arose from the doctor, “Have you changed your mind?” Oksana’s resolute response was a firm “No,” triggering the paperwork to formalize her decision. According to the law, she had six months to reconsider.
I harbored unspoken fears, hesitating to ask the one thing on my mind. The documents arrived before lunch, and Oksana completed them. Unable to contain my thoughts any longer, I inquired, “What is this?” She calmly replied, “Refusal.” My concerns spilled out, urging her to reconsider, emphasizing her youth, strength, and the support of her family.
Her response was chilling—void of sorrow, pity for the child, or tears. The connection we shared seemed to fade; our interactions diminished. Left alone with my thoughts, I began to dream of ways to bring this child into my life.
After a night of reflection, uncertain about the direction Oksana’s decision was taking, I sought counsel from my doctor the following morning. She guided me through the process, leading us to the head of the maternity ward. It was then that I voiced my unconventional plea: “Can you arrange it so that I give birth to the child, and she… doesn’t? Can it all be mine? A simple solution—twin birth, with my polyhydramnios making the idea seem plausible.”
The response from the medical professionals varied from shock to dismissive remarks. The director expressed concern about legal repercussions, dismissing my plea. That night, Oksana gave birth, leaving me disheartened but hoping for a positive fate for the child. Despite my reservations, I visited my doctor the next day.
However, my plea was met with rejection, leaving me to face the reality of Oksana’s decision. In the end, the child became mine in a different way.
On the second night, my contractions began, and I struggled through childbirth. At 6:55, I became the mother of Yulia. The chief doctor approached me immediately after, still recovering from her own delivery, and asked, “Have you changed your mind?” Confused at first, I shook my head and asserted that I hadn’t. In that moment, I decided to present Daniel and Yulia as my twins.
When my husband saw them, there was surprise but not shock. He sat down, asked for water, and then, with a smile, inquired about the ultrasound. His response was joyous, suggesting the name Daniel, reminiscent of his grandfather. Overwhelmed by conflicting emotions, I cried and felt the weight of my deception.
Everything was seamlessly registered for us from the start—tags at the hospital exit. Now, 15 years later, our children, Daniel and Yulia, are thriving. We’ve shared family moments like fishing trips, and the children received gifts—Daniel a fishing reel and Yulia a mountain bike.
The truth lingered unspoken until recently. I chose a moment when the atmosphere was relaxed, taking advantage of a celebratory mood. Two bottles of stronger wine accompanied our return from the store. To my husband’s surprise, my response to his query about the occasion was, “Well, it’s a holiday after all.”
As the children went to bed late, I continued the celebration in the kitchen. By the time I broached the topic, two bottles had been consumed. I shared the truth with my husband, expecting disbelief. To my amazement, he responded with understanding and appreciation for my strength and wisdom. The revelation brought joy to our family, and I felt a sense of relief as my husband acknowledged me as a strong and wise woman.
