I had my son when I was 19. I lived alone with little money and no help, his father having no interest in even holding him. I was depressed, skint, starving, but I managed. Sleepless nights, screaming fits, tantrums, learning difficulties and autism, full-time work plus two degrees, and 21 years later my son is polite, happy and loving, and the most amazing man I’ve ever known. I know other women who have done the same and I would never change a thing. I do understand the writer’s frustration, but I hope she decides that, actually, she can do it alone. Ruth
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