When there was a love, it did not make any difference that he was a foreigner, neither is my religion nor ours.
But just now, our rest reliance had just broken the broken one month's time to find out that I am pregnant and I am going to become a mother's mother.
My friends said that I'm crazy because I was a 21-year-old virgin girl and wanted to get a baby.
I also felt that I would be crazy. The heart was scared and it was as if something was going to be very bad. But it was so bad to happen.
I was 19 when I met Mustafa for the first time. Excepting my small city of the North-East state, I started working in the call center in a major city on the other end of the country.
Mustafa was the African origin. He fit in the 'Tall, Dark and Handmade' level. My young heart went to her side. After one and a half-year friendship, we started living together.
I am a Christian and that Muslim. We loved each other but there was no courage in thinking about marriage.
We were living in the world of dreams where it seems unrealistic to think about the future. He had many friends who always used to come to our house. I used to laugh and talk with them too.
Do not know how to feel suspicious about Mustafa's heart. It started to feel that I have a share with her friends and that's why our battles begin to happen.
Slowly everything became so tremendous that our night and day passed through each other.
I became very sad. I kept crying for hours and it started to affect my work too. My job is gone.
Intend to return home.
I decided to return home. Wanted to go away from this small apartment and its associated memories.
But all my plans failed when I did not pay per month. My fear was correct if I checked a check-in kit from a nearby shop and checked home. The result was 'positive'.
After staying with Mustafa, the second time she was pregnant. The first time her pregnancy was undermined, but this time ....
I called Mustafa and called in a cafe. When sitting in front of the face, when he told him, he stressed at me why I did not care.
He told me hundreds of reasons and tried to get rid of pregnancy. He told him how to believe that he is his child.
But I was tired. When the first child was lost, it seemed as if I had killed someone.
I did not have the courage to kill my child again. Not that I was not scared. My tear was not being named.
I was not married and I did not have a good job. The child's father was not ready to accept it.
But it was also assuming that God might give me an opportunity to start a new life.
By the time I was living a lucky young man. Nobody was confident that I would get a child.
I also knew that my way was not easy, but now I had a reason to be responsible. The love of my beloved child was telling me to bring him into this world.
I feared to tell my family about it. He was already familiar with Mustafa but he was very angry with hearing about being pregnant.
He was not angry because I was about to be a mother before marriage but was more angry that she was a black, foreign, and a child outside of us.
I assure myself that I will handle everything myself. They did not ask for help again.
A friend of mine helped a lot in such a difficult moment. While running his scooter, I went to the doctor for medical examination.
Sales girl job.
For my expenses I worked a sales girlfriend in a shop. Meanwhile, Mustafa continued to celebrate me but my decision was stable.
My friend took me to Scooter Hospital on the birthday of the baby. An hour after birth the child was born.
When I was conscious, the child was in my lap's lap and the doctor was smiling with me. I was very happy and it was feeling that everything is going to be fine now.
Mustafa reached the hospital to Syria. She picked up the baby at the lap and told her friends on the phone that she became a son's father.
Mustafa was surprised to see so much happy. But she still could not dare to tell her family about it
She talked about starting a relationship again. He also wanted to name the child as a Muslim. But I refused and gave my child a Christian name.
I was not able to believe in Mustafa. A few days later my mother and Cousin came to me. I was not alone now
Last year Mustafa returned to his country and never came to my life.
Now I am 29 and my son is going to be six years old. She was very difficult but now I am very frustrated and frightened.
I tell people that I did not get married and my son. I told him that if someone asks him the name of the father, he should tell him 'Mustafa'.
I do not regret my decision. I am happy my son lives in my mother's house because I'm making my career here.
Now I sing on parties or special occasions. I'm trying to save my son's future by collecting money. She is very cute baby.
My relationship with Mustafa has ended forever but she will always be special. I have learned to live with this relation.
I am trying to forget everything and go ahead. I want to love again. There is no hurry but also a wedding.
If it's fate it will also happen.
(This is a true story of a woman from the Northeast)
