I Was Literally Dragged From My Barista Job To Witness My Secret Child’s Birth. The Mother Targeted Me While I Was Blackout Drunk Because Her Boyfriend Is Infertile. How Is This Legal?

Even Lana’s lawyer looked surprised.

Then it was Lana’s turn to take the stand.

She looked small sitting there nothing like the confident woman from the hospital.

Quentyn asked her about the forum posts and she claimed they were just hypothetical discussions between friends.

She said our encounter at the party was mutually desired and meaningful.

But when Quentyn pressed her on details her story started shifting.

First she said we’d talked for hours then she said it was more like an hour.

She couldn’t remember what we supposedly talked about.

Quentyn asked why she never tried to contact me after the party if we’d had such a meaningful connection.

Lana stumbled over her answer saying she lost my number.

But then Quentyn pointed out she’d never asked for my number according to her own previous statement.

She said she got it from a mutual friend but couldn’t name the friend.

Her lawyer objected again but the damage was done.

Lana kept contradicting herself getting defensive and angry.

She insisted everything was my fault for not remembering her.

Quentyn asked about her admission in the hospital that she’d gone to the party looking for a father.

Lana tried to claim she’d been confused after giving birth that she didn’t mean it that way but her voice wavered and even the judge looked skeptical.

When she finally stepped down she was crying and her lawyer looked frustrated.

The judge called for a recess and everyone stood up.

I thought we’d get a decision right away but instead the judge said he was assigning a court psychologist to evaluate all parties.

“Her name was Juliet Mlan and she’d provide recommendations about custody and support arrangements.”

The evaluation would take 4 weeks which meant waiting even longer for answers.

But Quentyn seemed pleased when we left the courtroom.

He said the judge ordering an evaluation meant he was taking the reproductive coercion seriously.

“If he’d dismissed our arguments he would have just ruled immediately.”

4 weeks felt like forever but it also gave us more time to build our case.

Paul caught up with us in the parking lot and asked how I thought it went.

I told him his testimony had clearly made an impact.

He looked relieved like he’d been worried about doing the right thing.

We shook hands before he left and it felt strange having this connection with someone who’d punched me just months ago.

Juliet’s office was in a medical building downtown with plants in the waiting room.

She was younger than I expected maybe late 30s with glasses and a calm way of talking.

The evaluation session lasted 2 hours.

She asked about my memory of the party and I admitted I had none.

She asked how I felt about having biological responsibility for a child I never agreed to create.

I was honest about the trauma and confusion about feeling violated even though society didn’t recognize men as victims in reproductive situations about my conflicted feelings toward a baby who existed because someone used my body without consent.

Juliet listened carefully and took notes but never seemed judgmental.

She asked what kind of relationship I could imagine having with this child.

I said

“Honestly I didn’t know Maybe someday when I’d processed everything maybe never I didn’t feel like a father I felt like a victim being forced into a role I never chose.”

She asked about the support demand and I showed her my budget explaining how 40% would make it impossible to survive.

She asked about my job and my plans and whether I’d ever wanted kids.

I told her

“Maybe someday with someone I chose when I was ready but not like this Never like this.”

When the session ended Juliet said she’d be meeting with Lana and Paul separately over the next two weeks.

Paul texted me after his evaluation saying Juliet had asked detailed questions about Lana’s behavior during the pregnancy.

About statements Lana made regarding intentionally seeking a sperm donor about the forum posts and conversations with friends.

He said Juliet seemed to understand this wasn’t a typical paternity case that there were layers of manipulation and consent issues that mattered.

Paul felt hopeful after his session and that made me feel slightly better too.

At least someone in an official position was taking this seriously instead of just assuming I should accept everything.

My therapist had been suggesting for weeks that I attend a support group for men dealing with reproductive coercion.

I’d resisted because part of me felt embarrassed about the whole situation but after the evaluation with Juliet I decided to go.

The group met in a church basement on Tuesday nights.

There were six other guys there ranging from early 20s to maybe 50.

Each of them had stories about being trapped by pregnancy they didn’t agree to.

One guy’s girlfriend had lied about birth control.

Another had a one night stand where the woman said she couldn’t get pregnant.

A third had been told his girlfriend had an IUD when she didn’t.

Hearing their stories made me feel less alone and less crazy.

Society didn’t talk about men as victims in reproductive situations but it happened more than people realized.

We weren’t dead beats trying to escape responsibility.

We were people whose consent had been violated in ways that had permanent consequences.

The group leader talked about setting boundaries and processing trauma.

About the difference between biological responsibility and emotional readiness about how we could fulfill legal obligations without pretending to have feelings we didn’t have.

Walking out of that church basement I felt lighter somehow like maybe I wasn’t broken for struggling with something everyone said I should just accept.

My mom called me the next afternoon sounding confused.

She said Lana’s parents had tried to contact her directly.

They’d called her work number somehow and asked if they could talk.

My mom refused to engage without lawyers present like Quentyn had instructed.

But she said they seemed different from before less hostile and more confused.

They kept asking questions about what actually happened at that party about whether I really didn’t remember Lana about the timeline of events.

My mom said Lana’s mother had sounded almost apologetic though she didn’t actually apologize.

It seemed like Paul’s testimony at the hearing had planted seeds of doubt about their daughter’s version of events.

They’d invested so much in believing I was the villain that questioning Lana meant questioning their own actions.

The spitting and the death stares and the assault they’d enabled.

My mom told them any communication needed to go through Quentyn and hung up but she said something in their voices had changed like maybe they were starting to see cracks in Lana’s story.

2 weeks later Quentyn called me to his office because Juliet’s evaluation report had arrived.

I sat across from his desk while he flipped through the pages his expression getting more positive with each section he read.

The report was 20 pages long with detailed notes from all the interviews and evidence review.

Juliet had written that the documented reproductive fraud was a major factor that should influence support obligations.

She recommended setting payments at a lower percentage that would increase slowly as my income grew over time.

The report also said I should only have supervised visitation rights if I chose to pursue any relationship with the child.

Juliet had included a whole section about trauma and consent violations acknowledging that I had the right to set boundaries around a situation I never agreed to.

Quentyn looked up at me.

He said

“This was exactly what we needed.”

The report gave us strong backing for everything we’d been arguing in court.

He made copies and started preparing for the next hearing scheduled in 3 days.

I left his office feeling something I hadn’t felt in months like maybe the system was actually listening to what happened to me instead of just assuming I should accept everything.

The courthouse was packed when we arrived for the hearing.

Lana sat at the other table with her lawyer not looking at me once during the whole proceeding.

The judge came in and everyone stood up.

Then he started reviewing Juliet’s report out loud.

He read the sections about reproductive fraud and consent violations nodding as he went through the recommendations.

Lana’s lawyer tried to argue that the report was biased and didn’t consider the child’s needs properly.

The judge cut her off and said the child’s needs were important but so was the context of how the child came to exist.

He issued a temporary order right there setting support at 20% of my income instead of the 40% Lana had demanded.

The order included a clause saying the amount could be changed if evidence of fraud got proven in criminal court.

Then the judge granted the restraining order against Lana’s family for the assault and harassment.

He looked directly at Lana and told her she needed to stop all the social media posts and public harassment immediately or she’d face contempt charges.

My hands were shaking as I wrote down everything the judge said.

20% was still a lot of money but it was manageable with my current job.

I wouldn’t have to move back home permanently or get a second job just to survive.

Quentyn squeezed my shoulder as we left the courtroom.

The next step was filing a formal complaint with the district attorney about what Lana did.

Quentyn drove me to the DA’s office downtown in a building with metal detectors and security guards everywhere.

We sat in a waiting room for an hour before a prosecutor finally called us back.

The prosecutor was a woman in her 50s who looked tired and overworked.

Quentyn explained the whole situation while she took notes showing her copies of the forum posts and Lana’s admission at the hospital.

She listened carefully but her face told me she wasn’t optimistic.

When Quentyn finished she put down her pen.

She said

“Honestly criminal prosecution for reproductive coercion was extremely rare The laws weren’t clear and juries had a hard time seeing men as victims in these situations.”

She said she’d open a case file and document everything we brought her but I shouldn’t expect charges to actually be filed.

Quentyn had warned me this would probably happen but hearing it still hurt.

The prosecutor did say having an official complaint on record would help our civil case and document the harm done.

She gave me a case number and told me to contact her if I remembered any other details about that night at the party.

Walking out of the DA’s office I felt frustrated that the criminal system wouldn’t help but also relieved that at least someone official had written down what happened to me.

2 months after that horrible day at the hospital I finally moved back to my own apartment.

My mom helped me pack up my stuff from her place and drove me home.

The apartment felt different somehow like I was seeing it with new eyes after everything that happened.

I unpacked slowly putting things back where they belonged and trying to reclaim my space.

The reduced support payments were manageable with my barista job though I was still working extra shifts on weekends to build up savings.

Quentyn had warned me that Lana might try to modify the order later if her situation changed so I needed a cushion in case court costs came up again.

I set up automatic payments so I wouldn’t have to think about it every month.

The money went into an account for the baby and I tried not to picture where it actually went or what it paid for.

My therapist said it was okay to fulfill my legal obligations without engaging emotionally.

That I could send money without pretending to have feelings I didn’t have.

Being back in my own place felt like taking back control of my life piece by piece.

Paul started texting me every few weeks just to check in and see how I was doing.

At first it felt weird having any contact with someone so connected to Lana but gradually I realized we had this shared experience that nobody else really understood.

We met up for coffee one afternoon and he told me about his therapy sessions.