Forgive me if this post seems a bit scattered, my feelings and thoughts on this subject are still really scattered. Also, note this is a really really long post. I’m pouring my heart out here.
In 1999, I was hit and run over by a truck. That is a post all in itself that I am still trying to put together. I am telling you this because I had abdominal damage. They were unsure If I could have children. Later, I was a silly teenager and didn’t use protection with my first. We had unprotected sex for over a year. Every steady boyfriend I had, I didn’t use protection with. There were no scares at all. My monthly cycle continued as it should. Well, sometime in December of 2007, someone had different plans for me. I became pregnant, and I am thinking it was the week after Christmas, my man’s parents were out of town, and I stayed the week with him.
I probably figured it out sometime in January or February, but I dismissed missed periods due to stress, because I had been laid off in November and couldn’t find a job to save my life.
Joe is Pro-Life, I am Pro-Choice. He is extreme Pro-Life. He believes even young rape victims should carry to term. He believes it’s murder, no matter how soon the pregnancy is terminated. I don’t try to change his mind, I just attribute his opinion to the fact that he does not have a vagina, and would never be able to put himself in a mindset to understand.
When I realized I was pregnant, I was scared shitless, and started denying it, because I was also scared I would make the decision to get an abortion, and then I would have to make the decision to either tell Joe and probably lose him, or not tell him and lie for the rest of my life. (wow biggest run on sentence ever)
As a teenager I was a pathological liar, I lied just because I could. I had caused much pain to many people, but not nearly as much as I caused myself. I made many changes over the past four years, and stopped lying so much. I try to be as honest as possible, even brutally sometimes, because I know it’s better than lies. I also knew that I couldn’t lose Joe. We’d both be devistated, but he would see me as a murderer.
So I denied my ass off. I kept promising Joe I’d go to the doctor, but never did. Finally, sometime in the middle of June, I got kicked. Hard. I was laying in bed, and my whole abdomen moved with it. I thought I would die of shock. Two days later I went to Planned Parenthood, and was told that I was in fact pregnant. I stayed very calm and collected, and asked where I would go from there, having no insurance. In the next week I found a doctor and told no one but my boss.
I did a lot of thinking and decided I would not be a welfare mother. I was working 25 hours a week 45 minutes away and had no way of getting a better job pregnant/with a baby. Joe doesn’t make enough to support both of us and a baby. His parents wouldn’t help, and my parents couldn’t afford to help.
I don’t like babies/toddlers. Neither does Joe. I play with my friends’ babies and Joe’s niece and nephew because I can give them back. They cry and I can’t soothe it, mommy or daddy can. I have changed one diaper in my entire life, and never ever fed a bottle to a baby. I knew that no matter how good of a mother every one else thought I’d be, I couldn’t provide what I would have wanted for my kid. They’d grow up thinking they were unloved because I don’t know how to express it. We’d always be broke. It wasn’t a happy future for anyone involved.
I wanted to tell Joe in a manner that would worry him the least, I was afraid he’d leave me. (Please note that it has nothing to do with his character, I was just so used to dealing with losers and assholes that I figured leaving was iminent.) I accidently blurted it out to him over the phone, just before bed. I was so pissed at myself. He didn’t sleep at all (neither did I) and had a hard time working the next day. I had wanted to tell him in person, and at a time that he wouldn’t end up losing sleep. He was even more scared than I was, but he took it in stride.
I told him I wanted to chose adoption, but I wouldn’t make a decision without him. I also told him I wouldn’t hold it against him if he left. The situation would be a lot easier for him. He was a bit upset that I even considered him leaving. I’m not necessarily sure what he really wanted to do, but he knew that my decision was the best for us. I feel like he was unsure about our decision, but he supported me in it.
I started looking through adoption agencies. Joe’s work started needing him to stay late. He started working four twelve hour days and one seven. He was constantly exhausted, and we started seeing each other one, maybe two days a week. I was having very little luck with adoption agencies, they were all telling me I was making the right decision, but none of them were moving quickly enough, I was six months pregnant already. No one was taking me seriously. I can understand people change their minds. There was no way I was changing my mind on this. I still haven’t, and I don’t see me changing it in the future either.
Fast forward a bit, I was getting frustrated with everyone around me for doubting me, and I was frustrated that I couldn’t have Joe around when I really needed him. I said nothing, just kept looking.
I’d say I was about seven and a half months pregnant when I met Donna. Her sister Sandy was working with my employer on Radio ads. Out of nowhere Sandy asked me when I was due. I told her. She asked if I was excited. I told her not really, I was looking at adoption agencies. I thought she was going to start hyperventalating. It turns out her sister and her husband were looking and looking everywhere to adopt. Donna and Tim had both been married previously. They were married in January. I was a little skeptical, but I agreed to meet them. Sandy tried calling them a few times and couldn’t get a hold of them. She was borderline hysterical. I tried to calm her telling her we didn’t have to meet immediately. Finally she got a hold of them, and about a half hour later, I was meeting Donna and Tim. We talked for about an hour in the back room of my employer. (Bless her heart, she was so good to me thorughout the whole prenancy.) We decided to meet for dinner the following week.
Fast forward through a few dinner dates, I decided Donna and Tim were going to be the parents of my child. Joe didn’t want much to do with the whole situation, lest he change his mind. I understood, but asked that he meet with Donna and Tim just so they could meet each other. It was a success. Donna started meeting me at my doctor appointments. She got me a few meijer gift cards to help pay for clothes and such. She hired us both a lawyer. They drew up custody paperwork, Joe and I both signed. Donna signed us up for a last minute crash course on labor, because up until month nine I was under the impression I’d need a Cesarian because of my large scar that vertically scales my entire abdomen. The doctor was very nonchalant in informing me that babies come when they want to, and we’d just play it by ear. (that enraged me into a panic for a while, until I thought about it and realized there was nothing I could really do, panic wouldn’t help the situation.)
Due date comes and goes, no baby. Five days later, at two a.m. my water breaking wakes me up. I wasn’t sure at first, because it was just a trickle, and I wondered if I’d had an accident in my sleep. I went down to the bathroom, and sure enough, some amniotic fluid gushed. There were no contractions to accompany this, so I paged the doctor, and as I suspected, he told me to hang out for a few hours. I tried to go back to bed, but couldn’t because of my confusion over no contractions. About an hour and a half later they started. I waited until they were five minutes apart to have my dad take me to the hospital. (My parents were very upset about my decision, but my dad told me he’d just cope with it.) I called Joe to ask him if he’d come to the hospital or not. I gave him the choice, knowing he was still pretty sensitive about the whole situation. He went to work and told them he had to take a personal day.
It was after six a.m. when I was admitted. My dad refused to leave until Joe got there. Joe arrived and dad went home. Around eight they gave me something to make the contractions stronger and closer together. I was getting them fairly regularly, but they weren’t even strong enough to make me cringe. I called Donna to let her know our doc appointment was cancelled, I was at the hospital. I told her nothing much was going on yet, I’d call her when it got closer, Joe was with me. She was reluctant to not come, but she waited.
Around eleven a.m. I suddenly dialate from two to eight. The contractions become so intense I want to die. I breathed through them as best I could, and Joe hovered helplessly when it got to the point that I was invoulentarily crying. I was gripping the railing of the bed and had my forehead pressed against it. The next day I realized I had pressed my forehead so hard there was a sore spot and a small lump. I called Donna between those nasty ones and let her know the baby would be coming soon. She rushed from her job ten minutes away, and stopped dead in the doorway as an especially nasty contraction came on and I screamed. She looked a bit like a deer in headlights.
I felt so bad that Joe and Donna had to stand by while I screamed and breathed my way through the worst pain I’d ever indured, including recovering from getting hit by that truck at 13. I refused any hand holding, afraid I’d break bones, and ignored any soothing anyone tried.
At just before one p.m. I could tell it was time. The doctor had already readied the room for delivery, and was waiting near by. I knew Joe didn’t want to see the baby, so I told him now was definately the time to get out if he was going. The doctors came back in and he slipped out. It actually only took me twenty minutes to bring Donna’s son into the world. He was healthy and crying loudly as he popped out. Yes, he popped out and someone caught him. There was no gently coaxing to get his shoulders out. It was almost commical. They cleaned him and gave him to Donna, upon my request before hand. Donna’s sister Sandy got there about ten minutes later after they’d cleaned me and the kid up. I had them both in the room, it made me feel good to watch them with the baby. Someone said something about Sandy’s daughters in the hall, and I told her to bring them in too. Before they could, Donna’s husband Tim burst in the room, grinning from ear to ear. I greeted him with hey there new daddy. He asked me how I was feeling as he put down his stuff, then looked in awe at his new son.
With five family members in the room and a nurse, Joe slips back into the room. Nothing could have meant more to me. I was so surprised because I knew he didn’t want to see the baby. He stayed on the opposite side of the bed, but he was there. Sandy and the girls left, and they asked me if I wanted to hold the baby. I told them later, they needed to spend time with him. Donna, Tim, and little Max went off to the nursery. I was moved, and Joe was with me until almost seven p.m. I made him go home and sleep, and Donna and Tim came to see me without the baby. We talked for a while, and they disappeared off to dinner. I had something sent up to my room.
Sometime in the middle of the night I got up and went down to the nursery to give the kid a good once over. I hadn’t slept yet, but I was wide awake. Max just stared up at me and I played with his fingers, telling him he had to be good for mommy and daddy.
I spent the better part of the next day by myself, but I didn’t care. I was lost in left field somewhere, totally exhausted to the point of slap happy and no sleep. I got up to take a shower, and it seemed like four different people came for various things while I was in the shower. Someone brought flowers. The doc came back and asked if I had any problems. He gave me a thumbs up and left. The flowers were from my mom. White roses. I’ll talk about that later.
Donna and Tim came back to visit for a while, and then I got up to see Max again in the nursery. I didn’t hold him just yet. I was afraid to hold such a tiny thing, I’d only held babies three months old and bigger. My dad came to visit without my mom. (that is a whole post unto itself for the future) I slept for a few hours here and there. At eight I brought Max into my room, and just held him for a while. He got hungry, and having never fed a baby, gave him back to the nursery for safe keeping.
Donna and Tim arrived and while they discharged Max I held him, playing with his toes as he slept. Donna promised regular e-mails, and in a few months a dinner date. No one cried when they went home, it didn’t feel like goodbye. There were hugs and kisses all around. Eleven thirty on the third day the doc signed my paperwork to go home, and told me I did a good job, patting my knee. He’s a weirdo, but he means well. I called my dad to come get me. He was there about an hour later.
Joe didn’t come visit again because he had to work, and the hospital is over a half hour away from his work and home. He was still working four twelves and a seven.
Okay, now I am really sick of typing, and I think I’ve given enough for you to chew on for a while.
