His full name is Jameir Russ Karsten M. Ancaja.
Yup, he's mine.
Carried him for 9 months.
Labored for 2 days.
Went out in the real world in broad daylight.
Born on October 16, 2001. He was a gift.
My moon.
I met his father when I was only 13. We had this ON-OFF kind of relationship all 3 years of highschool because I was studying in Manila and he has to stay in our province.
It was November 2000 when we got together again. I'm 17. It was a serious kind of relationship this time since we were both in college and he's staying near our home.
I was spending most of my non-school hours at his place. My mother approves of him.
My grandmother is friends with his family. My sister calls him "kuya" (big brother).
We were meant for each other.
It was the reason I allowed myself to cross the lines I created for my benefit. Believing that we will get married soon enough. Or that our futures are meant for that.
Apparently, he misunderstood this as a bad change for me. That I was way too liberated for him.
That he wasnt the first. That it wasn't my first time.
I celebrated my debut January. I found out about my pregnancy by February.
I told him this news. He even bought me fruits. He even laid his head on my belly even if I was only 2 weeks pregnant. It was almost too good to be true.
It was until that time when I realized he was not the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. Not the person I would pick to father my children.
I did not wish to marry him. Nor wanted to settle things with his family. I did not even ask him to take responsibility for the baby. I left.
My relationship with him is like being covered each day with dark storm clouds.
I was always struggling to see some light.
When I left him I was still in the dark. I have no idea of how to do everything alone. And worst of all, I am helplessly in love with him.
Although I have my family for support, they cannot carry the emotional struggle within me. They could not grasp how much I've been waiting for him to come and get me out of my misery. And how much I hated myself for that.
Good thing I have my moon in me. The reason I still wake up each day to go to school in my maternity dress. The reason I stopped crying in the bathroom when the emotions get too heavy.
The reason I am here now. Stronger. Braver. And Happier. More than I've ever been.
Now, Jam is 7. He's first his class. Active. Smart. And happy.
He will always shine when the sun shies away in my life.
