Please Don’t Call Him A Rape Baby

Please Don’t Call Him A Rape Baby

Three years ago I had to work late due to dead lines on a project I was assigned to, it was around 10pm when I finally left the office, I was desperate to get home as I knew I had an early night and just wanted something to eat and to soak in the tub.

I made a huge error of judgement and decided to cut through a dark car park cutting off ten minutes of my journey home.

I was half way through the car park when I was pulled into a van, I don’t remember much other than his body on top off mine and being in pain, I must have blacked out!

I awoke 2 or 3 hours later two miles from home in a dark ditch, with no clothes and blood dripping down my thighs.

I crawled through the mud and grass to the side of the road and a lorry driver stopped, the kindest man who wrapped me in a blanket and held me as I sobbed, he wanted to take me to the hospital but I just wanted to go home.

The next morning I washed and dressed for work and god knows why but I pretended it hadn’t happened, I just carried on as normal.

I smiled, I joked, I socialized, until 14 weeks later I discovered I was pregnant, the rape really did happen, it all came flooded back to me, memories are vague but now I was carrying my rapist baby.

I visited my parents and poured out everything that had happened my mother was so great so kind so understanding, we talked about options but this baby wasn’t to blame, it was my child.

I eventually gave birth to a beautiful red-haired little boy called *John*, my family really supported me other than my sister-in-law who kept referring to him as the rape baby, always asking does my son look like the rapist, how can you love a baby conceived by rape? Even suggested I put him up for adoption as when he finds out how he came into this world he will hate himself.

He is NOT a rape baby, I do not see my rapist in my sons eyes, he is my light after a dark time, he is my hope, he is my heart, he is my son!

*name has been changed to protect identity*