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I never posted about this before because I guess I didn’t want to think about it or let it permeate my present reality to any large degree, but I’d be interested to hear people’s comments on it now. It’s a long story as there’s a lot of complicated history involved, but I’ll try to get to it as quick as I can.

The man who raised my son with me is now, unfortunately, dead; he is the person I am talking about when I refer to my sons “real dad”. The person who impregnated me fourteen years ago is (I’m tempted to say unfortunately but that’d be unchristian) alive, and he is the person I refer to as my sons “birth father”. I use these differential terms in my own life so I’ll use them here too.

Just over three summers ago I moved to a new area, the one I’m in now, and oh my God – did I get a shock a couple of months after I got here! Rewind… (here comes the history bit!)

Seventeen years ago I met my son’s birth father. I was fifteen and he was twenty-one. We were together for the best part of two years before we had a row and didn’t speak for two weeks. During that time he met someone else. He came back to me very rapidly, but the rows continued, not helped by his having slept with someone else. It was looking like we were going to make a go of it though, before I very quickly got myself incarcerated in a juvenile detention centre for a period of six months. When I got out I found he’d gotten her pregnant and moved in with her. She got pregnant very fast (within six weeks of having met him) and by the time I got out she was already well into the second trimester of her pregnancy. Of course, at seventeen and in love, I was crushed.

Anyway, he and I continued to see eachother and sleep together and when she was in her third trimester of pregnancy he decided for himself that he’d had enough of her and was coming back for good, but the day he was due to move back in with me I got another shock for my troubles; my flatmate told me he’d tried it on with [I][B]her![/B][/I] So he’s standing outside my front door with the removal van behind him (I’ll never forget that blue van in the background; isn’t it funny the details you remember?) and I tell him very bluntly where to go, and of course I tell him why, and I delivered all this in the bluntest possible terms, telling him F this and F that and get the hell back to your pregnant girlfriend and she’s only welcome to put up with your sleazy arse God help her and all the rest of that sort of talk. He lost the head roaring and shouting about how he’d left her for me blah blah blah, but he turned the van around as I’d left him no choice in the matter and I didn’t see him for another couple of months. I ran into him in the street and allowed him to talk me round, being young and foolish as I was, and I began sleeping with him again; their daughter was a new baby at the time. I never had any conscience about that by the way, as he and I had been a couple when they met and she hadn’t any conscience about getting pregnant for someone else’s boyfriend.

Well, when their little girl was four months old I guess I returned the favour when I got pregnant myself, and when I did that was the end of him in my life, (for a couple of years anyway - I was stupid enough to have another couple of flings with him in my teens and early twenties). But he disappeared the day I told him I was expecting his baby and left me alone, seventeen and pregnant, to carry the weight of his responsibility as well as my own. I’ll never forget it. It was all such a convoluted mess; I had already begun to see someone else who was mad about me, but with whom I’d always used protection, so there was never any question of who the father was and of course I told my new bf from the off that the baby wasn’t his. (What a dreadful conversation, I’ll never forget it. The tears in his eyes, oh God it was awful) My son is the image of his birth father, doesn’t look like me at all, and in fact he’s so little like me that many people have commented on it down the years.

I moved out of the bedsit I was living in at the time to find somewhere decent to raise the baby; after I’d moved I returned a few days later to pick up the last of my stuff and was told an Englishman had called a couple of times looking for me. I found that news very sad and strange and hard to take; the Englishman was my sons birth father and he’d called looking to speak to me about six weeks after I’d told him I was pregnant, but he’d called too late. Of course today I can see that had he called a few days earlier and had we decided to stay together all I’d have had ahead of me would have been a lifetime of misery, but at that time all I felt was the hurt of abandonment, and beyond that, the hurt of his having attempted to rectify that abandonment, but calling a few days too late. It was very hard, but I moved on, and to the very great shock of both myself and everyone close to me at that time my bf decided to stick around and raise another mans baby with me. This is the man we’ve always referred to as my sons “read dad”, who unfortunately died in ’02.

Anyway, I’ll try to wind this up now; there are almost thirteen months to the day between our son and their daughter. The children will be going fourteen and fifteen on their next birthdays, which are only a month apart, in February and March of next year.

Well, here comes the tricky part:

A couple of months after I moved to this area I ran into my sons birth father up the street from my new home. He was in this area to visit his daughter, who, to my horror, he went on to tell me lives with her mother about five or ten minutes walk from my home! :dizzy: :dizzy: :dizzy: Apparently they had moved to this area a few years before I had, and their relationship had broken down quickly after that. He left her about six or seven years ago, so at least I don’t have to worry about running into him all the time, but it still leaves me with the issue of having to worry about my son and her daughter meeting. They are half brother and half sister to eachother after all!

This is a very small area with a population of only a couple of thousand people, and my son is the most sociable child you could ever meet, he had dozens of new friends within weeks of moving here. Also I worry that they are both getting to the age where they are getting seriously interested in the opposite sex, and as they are so close together in age it dosent take much imagination to guess where that could lead a couple of years down the line! My son has settled very well here and I promised him before we moved that we would stay here and not move again, as I had moved around a fair bit in his earlier life (but had always kept him in the same school) so moving really isn’t an option.

I just don’t know how to handle this and have been doing my best not to think about it for more than three years now, but your sons half sister living round the corner is not an issue that’s going to go away. I did discuss this with my sons birth father and asked him did he not think the children had a right to know about eachother and to choose whether or not to get to know eachother. He said that no, he thought it’d mess their heads up. The girls mother is aware that my son exists, but has never told her daughter about him. This is something that has been lurking in the background of my life for over three years and I’d really appreciate any guidance on how I might deal with it.

Sincere thanks to anyone who’s made it to the end of this marathon post! And if you’ve made it this far maybe you’d attempt to answer these questions for me;

- Is there any way, besides moving, to divert this situation away before it presents itself?

(I’ve managed to ignore and avoid it until now, but at the age my son’s at now he’s starting to go to local area discos etc, where the likelihood of his getting to know his half sister is increasing all the time, and bear in mind they are living within a few minutes of eachother. :dizzy: )

- Should I tell my son about his half sister living up the road?

(I’d be uncomfortable about doing that as my son might then say something to this girl if he met her and this childs mother has rights too and mightnt want her daughter to know, and most likely dosent since she hasn’t already told her; but then I’d be a lot more uncomfortable if my son found out by any other means)

So, what, if anything, should I do? :confused:





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