I got pregnant in my junior year of college, one boy. I was a good kid, a virgin before that night, a good student. I returned home for the summer three months pregnant and had to let my parents know. Being good Christians, small town people I was given the choice if getting married or being disowned. The boy protected me and married me. I went from middle class to student poverty.

I sat out my senior year, I moved with my baby and husband to his job after graduation. I registered and attended college six hours per semester to graduate three years later. By then I was pregnant again, I had settled into my married life with my husband. During my pregnancy my husband confessed he had sex with a woman from work. She became a close friend, I was too pregnant for sex and I was happy that she was there for him. Our conversation was about how we should live, how we were going to share a husband. By the time I was ready for sex after birth we had agreed to live together, She wanted to help with the kids, I could stay home and she would keep on working. We never went down the road of equal time, he needed to decide who he wanted sex with, not us. The three of us shared a bed, sex was more than enough for everyone.

By the time my second son was a year old my cowife was pregnant, she had a little girl.

I don't advocate our lifestyle, but not once have we ever been shamed or put down, even my parents accept our life choice. I remember one event, at the airport in Maui and an older silver haired lady asked us about the children, we told her that we were cowives and the children were ours. Her comment was immediate 'good for you'.

We live in Arizona now, no one cares. We are just the family down the street, the boys ride bikes with their friends and our daughter plays with the girl next door. If anything, we would like to see my husband be able to marry my cowife. Then our life would be perfect.