Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Okay, so here's my story...well the beginning of it I hope. Or maybe somewhere in the middle. It's very candid and honest, so do me a favor and don't judge me. Anyways, I'm 25, single, and (gasp!!!) pregnant. Yeah, to say the least this was not expected. I got married very young (19), after 5 years of trying to conceive with my husband, my marriage began to unravel, and quickly. He had wanted children from the very very beginning, from before the beginning actually. It was something that he needed, you know I guess to achieve self-actualization or whatever. Who knows. Which of course seemed to be the one thing that I could not provide for him. We tried and tried and tried, years of negative home pregnacy tests were followed by 4 consecutive miscarriages, later we decided to seperate. This wasn't the only reason but in hindsight it caused a strain that neither of us could overcome. So, during our "trial" separation when he asked if I minded, "If he dated women with children." I knew exactly why he was asking and where he was coming from when I looked in his eyes. The ones that already had children weren't damaged, in the long run they could do what we both knew I couldn't. I couldn't blame him. And before our divorce was even finalized I got word that him and his live in girlfriend were expecting. This hurt worse than anything, worse then the separation, worse than the divorce. Not just because she gave him so easily what I had tried desperatley for years to but because deep down, I knew that I would never ever have children of my own. I began making decisions that were out of character, okay now that is an understatment, truthfully I let my life spin out of control. I began going out and drinking 3-4 nights a week, so literally when I wasn't drunk, I was hungover. I hit rock bottom. Months of my life went by in blur, each day ran into the next, that still I really can't remember. And God only knows how I managed to hang on to my job. I started a relationship with someone I barely knew, that for the first time in my entire life, was based strictly on sex. Drunken, sloppy, careless, sex. Sad, huh?!?! And then they came. The symtoms that I knew so well from all the times before. I was tired way beyond exhaustion, and after 4 times there was no mistaken that I was, even if I wasn't even late yet. I drove 20 miles away to a town where no one would recognize me, (believe me news like this travels fast in my small town like mine) and I bought the most expensive pregnancy test I could find (more money, more accurate, right?) I think the cashier could see the utter fear in my eyes because she whispered that I could use their restroom if I needed to. I politely said no, and drove back to my office and proceeded with the instructions that I didn't need to even read again from so many times before. And the little damn digital window flashed "pregnant." My first thoughts were this is my punishment for my behavior, for my sins. But not the baby, because I knew there wouldn't ever be one. Another miscarriage would be my punishment. The pain, and the loss would teach me the lesson that I needed. This was God's way of telling me I was on the wrong path. There would be no baby, just another reminder of where a baby could've been. I told the father that night. You can imagine his reaction, typical of any man who is imagining having a child with someone he never even intended to have a relationship with outside of sex. Shock. Shock mixed in with a little "WTF have a done." That's was the expression that I read on his face. Okay, I knocked that out of the way. I begged him not to tell anyone, and did all but guareentee that there would be nothing to worry about. Because there could never be a baby. He agreed not to tell anyone. But I will say that I got lucky in that he is a good a man. And then it happened.....A month later. My first ultrasound, the first time I'd ever seen a heartbeat. Out of all those babies, never once had I heard or seen one. It hit me like a ton of bricks, all at once. There might be a baby? Still not convinced but I was swayed. Even though I wasn't sure, it was enough to get me into gear. I got back on my feet. Still no one knew. Not only did it feel good to be sober but sober and independent felt even better. I threw myself into my job that I had neglected for so long, even though there were many days that was all I had left. And a change began to take place within myself. For the first time in months and months I began to see the blessings that I had in my life. Not all that had been taken from me. I had a family that would love me no matter what, I had friends that would do absolutley anything for me no matter what mistakes I made, I had a job that many, many people would love to have. I also, realized how close I had came to throwing that all away. All my days were spent quietly reflecting, and working and preparing, waiting to see if the day would come when I would need to tell anyone about my secret. I had never made it past 12 weeks before. Well, 12 weeks came and went this time. Nothing, no bleeding, no cramps. Nothing. But I still wasn't completely convinced. Although, I did think maybe there actually could be a baby? I decided that I would wait until my next ultrasound, if everything was fine than I would tell. So, more weeks rolled by and week 17 came. And then the day of the ultrasound, and there it was that little heartbeat again only this time there was a baby too. Not just a peanut shaped blob. It was a real baby. With fingers, and toes, with little legs and arms and a little face even. A baby that kicked and moved and sucked it's thumb. Okay, now it was real, more real than anything I'd ever been through. Up to this point a baby was just a theroy, a chance possibilty, a could, or a maybe. But now it was a real little baby. I was in awe and then I cried. And I cried later when I was completely alone, not just for the amazement of this little baby but for the loss of all the others. All the others that I would never know, that would never have names, I cried for myself and for the last time I cried for the loss of my marriage. Because something deep within myself told me that it wasn't that I would never have children, it was that I would never have had children with him. So, I told. I told my family and my friends the secret that I had carried for so long. And to my amazement once again. No one reacted the way I had thought they would. No one told me that I should be ashamed, or that it wasn't right. Not a single person told me that I wasn't ready. Not just my girlfriends but my guy friends as well told me they were happy for me and that I would make a wonderful mother? How do they know anyway? They told me that everything happens for a reason and that everything is meant to be. And they became involved and people I hadn't talked to in years reached out to me, and checked on me to make sure I was okay. So, I accepted and embraced what my loved ones had no problem at all doing, most of them didn't bat an eye or miss a beat in their happiness for me. Even despite the circumstances, even if I hadn't let myself be happy about it yet. But I did, I believed it. And then I painted and shopped, and read books and I bought bigger clothes. I forgot about the bassinet that I set out on the curb for the trash after my last miscarriage the year before. I let myself forget all the baby clothes, and towels and little wash clothes that were never worn or used that I sold in garage sales, I didn't think about all the baby books that I had given away. But I also accepted that even though it wasn't ideal, and that it wasn't how I planned and I stopped being ashamed, and started realizing that it was a miracle. A miracle that in more ways than one had saved me from myself.