“Mom, meet Love, she’s my daughter,” said the 17-year-old son, standing at the doorstep with a baby in his arms. Learning his story, I was left speechless.

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I had a happy family – my husband and our son, Anton. We lived and enjoyed life together, but that happiness didn’t last long. My husband, Dmitry, passed away, and Anton was just eight years old at the time. I had to raise our kind-hearted boy on my own.

However, maybe I overdid it. After finishing ninth grade, Anton entered a technical college in another city for his studies. I knew he was a responsible young man, so I wasn’t too worried about him, but I missed him terribly.

That summer, Anton turned 17, and he was supposed to come home immediately after his exams. However, two weeks had passed, and there was still no sign of him.

You should have seen my face when I opened the door early one morning and saw my son with a tired expression and huge bags under his eyes, holding an envelope with a newborn baby inside.“Mom, meet Lyubov,” he said, barely managing a smile. “Who’s Lyubov? Whose child is this, Toshka?” I asked. “Mine,” he proudly replied. “This is my daughter.”

I was astonished and let them into the apartment. Walking into the living room, I witnessed a scene that left me speechless. My 17-year-old son was sitting on the couch, holding a baby in his arms, gently kissing her nose.It sounded sweet, but at that moment, I was afraid to learn the truth. “Tell me everything in detail,” I said. He calmly, without rushing, recounted everything.

It turned out that during his second year at college, Anton had met Olena, a girl from another class. He noticed her right away in the crowd because she was different from the others – she dressed modestly and didn’t wear makeup like the rest of the girls at the college. Within six months, they started dating.However, at that time, Anton had some document issues, and he disappeared for two months to deal with them. I knew about these problems, but he hadn’t had a chance to tell Olena. She thought Anton had abandoned her and contemplated ending her life but didn’t have the courage. My responsible son hoped to prove the seriousness of his feelings and showed her what true adult love meant, which resulted in Olena getting pregnant.

They had planned to secretly marry when they both turned 18, but for now, they just wanted to have a quiet registry office wedding. During Olena’s pregnancy, her health deteriorated, and she passed away. She had a weak heart, and natural childbirth was contraindicated for her.

Anton had spent several sleepless nights outside the maternity ward where two of her favorite girls were born. When he found out they were planning to send the baby to an orphanage, he fought tirelessly to bring her home, and ultimately, her documents were reissued in his name.

That’s the kind of young man I raised, and you know, I’m incredibly proud of him.

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