Dying mum revealed she had me after being raped by stranger

Louise Blake* tells how she coped after her mother finally admitted a shocking truth – that she was conceived during a sex attack

No 7 Protect & Perfect Intense, £26, www.boots.com Smooth lines and wrinkles with this supercharged version of the original bestseller. AS MY beloved mum lay on her deathbed, she said: “Louise, I have something I need to tell you. Your dad wasn’t your biological father. He adopted you when you were three years old.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I wanted to run away.

But mum held my hand, determined to keep speaking while she still could, saying: “One night when I was 21, I was on my way home from work in Glasgow when I was raped by a stranger, which resulted in me becoming pregnant with you.

“I’m sorry I haven’t told you before, I didn’t know how.

“I’ve always felt guilty about keeping it from you and I hope you can forgive me.”

The revelation floored me. I pulled away and fled the room.

But there was no time to fall apart. After composing myself, I went back to my mum’s bedside as she took her final breaths with my sisters, Amber and Lucy, next to her. Stroking her head, I said: “It’s OK, mum.” And with that, she passed away. I was numb with shock and grief.

I looked over at Amber and she nodded at me. It turned out our mum had confided in her a few years earlier but begged her to remain quiet.

The next few days were dreadful. My sisters organised my mum’s funeral because I couldn’t cope.

I realised I’d always wondered about my dad, who had died 10 years earlier. I look completely different to my sisters and, growing up, he was always slightly indifferent towards me. I had a privileged upbringing in many ways, yet I always felt separate from my family. While my mum and sisters would play

silly games and laugh together, I didn’t get their humour. My dad was physically abusive to my mum. He never hit me or my sisters but we saw him pushing and hitting our mum.

After several bad rows, we had to flee the house. But mum always went back to him.

I wish she’d been strong enough to leave him. But my mum and I had a great relationship.

I left our home in Surrey aged 17 and went to live in London, where I combined studying at college with work. My mum frequently came to visit but dad rarely did.

When he died, part of me was sad but I was also relieved.

Living in London wasn’t always easy and, throughout my 20s and 30s, there were times when I was quite depressed.

I had a job in social care, which could be very stressful. I did my best to stay well with exercise, antidepressants, eating well and surrounding myself with positive people.

But learning the truth about my real father hit me hard. Not long after my mum died in 2004, I spiralled into a very dark place.

I applied for a credit card and went on a spending spree, racking up thousands of pounds of debt.

I saw psychologists and psychotherapists and was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, depression, anxiety and psychosis.

Knowing that the mother I adored was attacked caused me so much suffering and guilt.

For years, I felt like I didn’t deserve to exist. It’s taken a lot of work in therapy to know that’s not the case.

Now I’m older, I have found a kind of peace. I realise that my dad tried to be a good father to me in his own way. He adopted me, supported me financially and even tried to get me a job.

I’m also lucky that I’m close to my younger siblings, who have been there for me.

And I have nothing but love and compassion for my mum. I know she must have loved me very much in order to go through with the pregnancy and then to keep me after I was born.

Life was very different for single mothers in the 70s and her family weren’t supportive.

Despite a challenging life, she was the most loving, caring woman I’ve ever encountered.

The years before her death were her happiest and she had found the contentment that she’d always craved. She adored her daughters and subsequent grandchildren.

My only wish is that she had told me her secret sooner. I’m glad to know the truth.

Louise, 48, lives in London and does voluntary work. *Names have been changed.

I spiralled into a very dark place. I felt like I didn’t deserve to exist