A Father From a Distance: My Story of Love, Sacrifice, and Not Being Allowed to Be a Dad

I never thought I would write something like this.

But here I am.

I am a father.
A father who loves his daughter more than anything. And yet, I barely get to see her.

How it all started

I was in a relationship with my, now, ex-girlfriend for 8 years.

We moved together to Malta to try and build a better life. Like many people, we left our home country looking for more opportunities.

While we were there, she got pregnant.
Unfortunately, all of that happened right before COVID.

During her pregnancy, she lost her job. We tried everything to find her a new one, but at that time most smaller businesses were shutting down because of low income and high costs.

I called everyone I could. Employers, institutions, newspapers, anyone. I tried to see if there was any way to extend her work permit based on my job, her pregnancy, or anything at all.

Unfortunately, nothing worked. That’s Malta. A place where third-country nationals barely have any rights.

The moment she had to leave

We eventually found a flight that Malta organized to send people back to their countries.

When it became clear that she had to go back, we talked about our options and our future.

We agreed that once COVID was over or borders open, she and our daughter would come back to Malta.

I stayed behind to work. To earn money. To prepare everything for our child before she was even born.

The day she got on that plane was the hardest day of my life.

Even when I left my home country, my family, my friends, my house… I didn’t feel anything like this.

That day, everything inside me was breaking.

We were waving at each other, and I was holding back tears so she wouldn’t see me cry. I didn’t want to make her day even harder.

She was going back home pregnant, knowing she wouldn’t have my physical help, only her family.

Watching from a distance

We stayed in contact every day.

We talked, we texted, and I watched through pictures as her belly slowly grew and a small life was developing.

Even now, while writing this, my soul hurts. It was extremely hard. I was just looking at pictures and videos, but I couldn’t hug her, couldn’t kiss her belly, couldn’t feel a single kick from our daughter.

I couldn’t help in any way except financially.

There were many times I almost decided to go back, just to be with them. But I knew that if I did, I wouldn’t have a job. I wouldn’t be able to earn anything.

And that was the whole reason we left our country in the first place.

Working beyond limits

During that time, I worked two jobs.

Overtime, night shifts, everything.

There were days when I worked all day, all night, and continued the next day.

No one forced me to do that. It was my choice. I wanted to work more so I could provide everything for my baby and my partner.

The birth of my daughter

When my daughter was born, I was still in Malta.

I couldn’t find a flight because of COVID. Our country was on the red list, and planes weren’t flying there.

But I managed to find a flight to a neighboring country for the day after she was born.

I bought the ticket immediately.

The arrival time was terrible, somewhere in the middle of the night.

After landing, I had to arrange transport to my country. The whole journey took almost 8 hours.

The longest 8 hours of my life.

Finally, I arrived.

But I still couldn’t see my daughter. They were released from the hospital after 3 days.

So I had to wait another 3 days to see my little love, because visits were not allowed due to COVID.

The only thing I could do was bring things to the hospital for them, and the nurses would deliver them.

Finally holding her

The day they were released, I went to pick them up.

I can’t describe how happy I was.

For the first time, I held my little princess in my arms. I was stiff, scared I might hurt her or drop her.

We put her in the carrier, packed everything, and went home.

When things started to feel wrong

This is where things slowly started to change.

I was given a blanket and a small pillow, basically like a couch pillow, and told to sleep on the floor.

Yes you've seen it right.

The entire time I was there, I slept on the floor and I stayed for 3 months.

But honestly, I didn’t care. I just wanted to spend as much time as possible with my daughter.

After a few days, I started feeling sick. I had a temperature, around 37.3°C. Not too high, not even sure if i could count it as a fever, but something didn’t feel right.

I called to get tested for COVID.

They gave me a number: 666. I remember thinking, that’s it, I definitely have COVID.

And the next day, they called me.

Positive....

Isolation and manipulation

I had to go into isolation at my own home. I gave the rental car to a friend so it wouldn’t go to waste. I missed my flight back to Malta because of quarantine.

After two weeks, everything was fine. And then I realized something.

I could use this.

I started sending fake positive test results to my employer in Malta to stay longer. I just wanted to be with my child and my partner.

Those three months were, in some moments, beautiful. But also very difficult.

Still sleeping on the floor.
Still no affection.
She didn’t even want to hug me.

I kept telling myself it was because of hormones, recovery, everything that comes after birth.

My family and the excuses

No one from my family could see the baby. The excuse was always COVID.

But her sister, who is a doctor and works with patients, could see and hold the baby without any problem.

I stayed quiet.

Back to Malta and trying again

After 3 months, I went back to Malta and as expected, I lost my job. But within a month, I found another one.

I started planning everything again, buying everything needed for the baby. Stroller, crib, baby swing, clothes, bottles... Everything.

The moment everything collapsed

Then I found out she didn’t want to come back to Malta.

I asked why.

Her answer: “I just don’t want to. You should come here”

I asked how we would live and where if I come back.

Her answer: "With my parents"

I asked why not stay at my house.

Answer: “No.”

Note that I never heard answer to how would we live

Still trying, still giving

I continued daily contact.
I sent money regularly.
I even left her my bank card.

I don’t even know how much money I sent, there were months when I sent over 1000 euros, plus whatever she spent from my card.

At that time, I didn’t even need money for myself. I was working 18 hours a day.

The first birthday

Fast forward to my daughter’s first birthday.

Almost no one from my family had seen her, my parents and my grandmother saw her once.

I thought we would celebrate together as a family. But the answer was no.

She said we should go somewhere alone, and maybe after that my family could see her.

At the last moment, I found and paid for a place in the mountains.

I thought, okay, at least I will be with my child.

Later, my family will see her. Silly little me, I was wrong.

The accusations

During all this time, she was completely distant from me.

Cold. Uninterested. Like I was some kind of enemy.

After months of trying to talk, I finally got the reason.

I was cheating.

She knew everything about my life, my routine, my work. And still, somehow, I had time to cheat.

I don’t even like going out. If I have free time, I rest. But in her mind, I was the bad guy.

The breaking point

Two weeks before my daughter’s second birthday, everything exploded.

A family friend asked me to carry a suitcase for her son.

I said yes.

What I didn't know is: That suitcase will change everything.

At the airport, instead of a greeting, the first thing I heard was:

“Whose suitcase is that?”

I explained calmly.

Her answer:

“So it’s from one of your girlfriends. There’s no space for it in the car.”

That was it. I broke.

I told her I didn’t need the car and took a taxi.

But like an idiot, I still went to her place to talk. I arrived before them and waited.

When they came, she started insulting me, calling me a bad person, disrespectful, a cheater.

I couldn’t take it anymore.

I said:

We are done.

From now on, we are just two people who have a child together.

After that

I walked away with a broken suitcase in my hands, yes, literally broken as it got broken on unloading from the airplane.

That day was the worst day of my life.

After everything I did, everything I sacrificed, I was treated like the worst person alive.

Life today

Since then, things have only gotten harder.

I reduced financial support to 300 euros per month, still way above average for our country.

I also buy everything my daughter needs online.

I have never missed a payment, or made a late payment. Not once.

But I am still not allowed to spend time alone with my child. Her mother always has to be there.

I have to pay for everything just to see my daughter.

Food, drinks, everything.

My family never sees her, highly forbidden.

The system

When she took things to court, I agreed to everything.

The judge only repeated what I was already doing.

Social workers ignored everything I said.
No matter what I proved, it wasn’t enough.
Even when my daughter said good things about me, it didn’t matter.

Well, social workers were also two single mothers, so you can see a relation there...

The reality

Today, it has been 5 months since I last saw my daughter on a video call.

Even longer since I got a picture.

My soul hurts.

My heart breaks every time I see or hear stories like this.

The questions

Where is the law for fathers?

Why do we have no real rights?

Why do we have to pay just to see our children?

Why are children used as tools?

Why does the child have to suffer because of the mother’s decisions?

Does she even think about the child?

And the hardest question of all:

Why try so hard to make the child hate her father?

What do you gain from that?

Final words

I love my daughter more than anything in this world. I would give my life for her.

And yet, I am painted as the bad person.

Why?

That is a question I still don’t have an answer to and I'm afraid it will stay that way to the very end.

Written in Germany