Well as you probably know by now, me and my boyfriend are trying to have a baby. However, I have been experiencing a few problems with my period as I mentioned before. A couple of days ago, I got my period, but it was 2 weeks after my last one, which is unusual. I have read that it could be spotting due to ovulation, but it seems a bit heavy.
I really want to have my boyfriend’s child as I love him deeply and I know how much he too wants a child but it feels as though everytime I take a few steps towards become pregnant, I pushed back another hundred but I’m determined not to give up as I do believe eventually, its going to have to happen.
Anyway, I’ve decided to take control of the situation and map my fertility, whatever that means.
On a happier note, it’s my birthday on Monday which will help to take things off my mind.
And then I got to uni.
I did a lot of things I regret, but maybe I needed them. Sometimes, I didn’t go to lectures; I went for walks instead. I looked at the birds and the trees and really appreciated everything. I did a lot of stupid things, and I must have acted irrationally. I still wasn’t sure where I was or how I had ended up here.
I wore the most ridiculous outfits; I wanted to be so pretty, so successful, so everything. For the first semester, I put my baby into daycare for four long days of every week, and I would sometimes spend them by myself, sitting there, and sometimes memories would come to my mind, and I didn’t like that. Maybe it was good that I had four months to understand that I was finally safe. Maybe. But I still wish I had spent more time with my little baby.
But my baby grew up, and I finally realised that time didn’t stand still. What was yesterday was quickly turning into today, and I had to make the most of it. My baby turned one, and I realised I had to stop doing what I was doing.
I got back up on my feet. In fact, I found them again. I found my voice; nobody was going to scare me into submissiveness again. I didn’t want to fear my past. I found that I was worth something; that this body is worth something, it belongs to ME and I decide what happens with it, not somebody else.
That my feelings counted; that when I said things, I wasn’t lying, I was telling the truth, telling my side of the picture.
I learned to put yesterday behind and try to focus on today, and tomorrow, but mostly today. For today is only here for one day.
And now my little baby, that yesterday was just born, is not a baby anymore, nor a toddler. My baby is a little boy now, who understands so much of what is going on around him.
If not for me, it’s for him I needed to find my feet again. And it seems I may actually have done that. I can look back on yesterday and say, I’ve being there, I saw that.
But I’m not there anymore, I’m here. I’m here living for today. Because that’s the only day I’m going to have to live it. One day, and one day only.
So the time passes, the time flies.
Yesterday, my ancestors were settling the banks of the Volga.
Yesterday, my great grandfather was returning from the Great War a hero.
Yesterday, my parents had just met in a small restaraunt.
Yesterday, a little girl was just born, with the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck, but as soon as she could breathe, she screamed so hard the world nearly toppled over.
Yesterday, I was going to daycare, kindy, drawing, playing with her friends.
Yesterday, I sat on a plane with my parents and flew away to another country.
I went to school there, I got bullied and then I a bully.
My parents went nuts, and I spiralled downwards as well.
Yesterday, darkness came. An all-engulfing darkness, with blue walls with metallic flowers on them, every day, every day, looking at the same thing, locked in my house that’s a prison.
Wet puddles with petrol in them and crouching behind the car in the garage so I wouldn’t be found.
Knives that my own hand cut my own body with.
Pills that went into my mouth and a belt being swung high in the air. The nurse making me drink charcoal after.
Homelessness. Fear. Cold.
Sitting in the public toilets, writing on my legs, pulling back the dirty school uniform, in blue biro, ‘I will never give up.’
Yesterday, I met the one I gave my heart away to. Everything away to, body, heart, dreams. He had huge big blue eyes, a huge nose, thick nearly black hair. He was tall, he was funny. I loved him with all her heart, and I wanted to be with him forever.
Forever sounds like a big word, but I wasn’t afraid of forever. The only forever I could be afraid of was a forever without him. Who could worry about protection?
We did it everywhere, everywhere public that is; I had no permanent home. His mother thought I was a prostitute, although I had only been with one guy. One Friday night, beneath a starry September sky in a secret place near the place she boarded at, a Mormon’s house, a miracle happened. God decided to save me from the knife and the scissors that I cut my hands with my own hands, and my absolute hopelessness in life.
God gave me a baby.
But I lost her first love. I don’t like to remember all the things that happened.
That wasn’t yesterday, it was almost like it was a second ago, the pain is as clear as a dew on a leaf in the morning. It’s like it wasn’t even to me anyway. Maybe it was all a dream. I like to think so anyway. I see those dreams sometimes when I sleep, but not so often anymore.
But God gave me a miracle: my little Alexander.
Yesterday, he was born, his huge scream drowning out everything else, and I demanded that my baby be put into my arms right then and there.
Then time did a strange thing. It became three hour cycles of eating, sleeping, changing. It stopped going at its usual pace, and I started eating again, and sleeping like a baby when I could again, and I had such a goal. I barely had time to dwell on all my goals, I just had to do them.
Yesterday, I got that school graduate certificate. I did it.
Yesterday, I cried on my first night in my own place; we had nothing, just a suitcase full of clothes and baby essentials, a few cans of baby food, and my little seven month old boy sleeping on a sheet on MY mattress in MY room in MY house. I cried, and for a month, I barely let the key go out of my hand. I wasn’t used to staying in the same place for that long. It was scary. Nobody was going to kick me out or hurt me. I didn’t have to hide anywhere. I sat in front of the TV for hours at night with a bowl of cereal, and kept on looking around me to check whether I was in trouble — but I wasn’t! I was the head of the household now, and this was MY house!
Or I would sit at the kitchen table for a long time, and nothing would happen. I could walk around my house and nothing happened. I got out of the habit of sitting in a corner of the room for hours on end.
That was the beginning of freedom.
So this is my story… It’s long and confusing so I will do my best to keep it as simple as possible.
I’m 19, but this all started when I was 16… I met this boy at the place I worked. He was really nice and we became fast friends… We ended up spending every day together… but we were both seeing other people so nothing came out of it. we were just good friends…
After a while, we both realized we had feelings for each other. And we broke it off with our others to see what happened between us. And let me tell you. it was amazing. He became my best friend. He was there for me when my dad hit me… He taught me to stand up to him and protect myself. He was there for me when I decided enough was enough and I moved out at the age of 17 to get away from my father. He was even there when I decided to move 8 hours away to go to college… He still supported me even though it meant we would only see each other once a month….
Leaving him was the hardest thing I’ve ever done… We talked every day. And I missed him terribly… At this time, I was still a virgin. and I wanted the man that I loved to be my first… not some random guy…. and he wasn’t… He never pressured me into anything… He knew I’d do it when I was ready…. and so I left for college… We talked every night for hours… We texted all day long… and I came home once a month to see him…. We were amazing. I loved him to death…
And around February, we got into our first big fight…. and we both said a lot we didn’t mean… but we ended up not talking for 2 months! I tried calling him every day, crying into his voicemail… telling him I was sorry for causing the fight and that I missed him and loved him… but I never got an answer… After a while, I stopped calling and I started hanging out with another boy…but I still loved my ex so much…. One day, I found out he was dating another girl…. I fell apart…. He promised me he would never leave and that he’d always be there for me and that it would be him and I forever… We talked about our kids and where we were going to live and pets and everything… I was planning on marrying him….but I found out he was dating someone else…
And so I told myself that if he was over me, I needed to get over him… So I did something very stupid… Since my virginity was going to be my gift to him, something i wanted him to have… I decided that i didn’t want to keep it anymore, that I didn’t want it to be special because it would only make it harder because I loved him so much… So this guy I was talking to at the time, I ended up having sex with…. like 3 times… And soon after, he started talking to me again…. and I could ever keep anything from him…. So I told him what happened and he said he only had the girlfriend to make me jealous… and I felt horrible and I hurt him so much by sleeping with this other kid… because he knew that I was going to give him my virginity when I was ready to… He was so hurt that I could do something like that…. but we decided that we could still be best friends…
So from feb to august, we were just friends… I didn’t go home to visit and he kept the girlfriend he had… and I tried to get over him…. and I thought I was getting there… And than on august 8th, I was in a horrible car accident… It rolled my car 5 times across the mass turnpike… I was taken to the hospital and had emergency surgery… and the first thing I thought was if I die, he won’t know how much I still love him…. and he was the first person I called… And when I got home, he was the only person I wanted to see…
I ended up having half of my thumb amputated and really screwing up my left hand…. and he was there by my side through it all… But he still had a girlfriend and she didn’t like that he was with me so much… But he didn’t care… I was his best friend and I almost died. He wasn’t leaving my side… and he never did… I had a lot of emotional problems and physical ones… and no matter what time or when, he would always be there for me…drop whatever he was doing to be by my side when I needed him… One day, I finally got the courage to tell him I still loved him… and he told me he didn’t feel the same anymore… that he was happy with his current girlfriend… and that all he wanted out of our relationship was best friends… So I swallowed it…and I was his best friend…
Well, after a month or 2, he and his girlfriend broke up and he and I have always been attracted to each other… and I still love him. So on his birthday…. we ended up finally having sex… I was shaking so bad because I had waited 4 years for that… Even though he wasn’t my first, it still meant a lot…but we decided to keep it as best friends…. not dating… Which is hard for me because even now, I still love him so much… He has always been there and always will…. We had sex twice and that has been it…
But I’m now spotting…. I don’t have a flow… My breasts are tender and sore, I’m soooo moody…and I never am….. I’m on the pill but I missed one at the beginning of October…. and my period is always the same….. and it’s very odd right now… I’m hungry a lot too and I’m scared because I’m only 19 but I’m ook with it because I know he would never let me go through this alone… He’d be by my side through it… We’ve been through everything together… But I haven’t told him I think I might be pregnant yet because I don’t want to worry him when it might be nothing…
All this is just happening at a very bad time… I just had my thumb amputated 2 months ago… and I’m still healing and recovering and such… and I’m trying to get back into school for the January semester…. and now I might be pregnant…
My parents are very old-fashioned and this isn’t going to sit well with them…. And I’m scared that if I am and my dad hits me, it will hurt the baby… but I’m OK with either or… being or not being, I just hate not knowing….
So if anyone has any advice or feedback on my story, just let me know… I’d love to talk to someone about everything.
Thanks.
bopeep
It is true what they say the best things in life are free. Sometimes, we get so caught up in the monetary rewards and stresses of this world that we forget things that are most important.
When discovering you’re about to have a baby, the first (or second) thing that springs to mind as a young woman or teen is ‘How am I gonna afford this?’ We can often disregard the value of having a committed baby-father and loving family in favor of worrying about getting the latest celeb-favorite pram or cute baby Nike’s. But I warn everyone to look at the importance of love and realize how lucky you are if you do have someone to love you because those without it would surely pass on the ability to buy high tech trendy baby items for an embrace or kiss from someone who truly loves them.
Everybody out there, don’t ever take anyone for granted. Cherish the love you share and strengthen your relationships. Because once you lose them, this world is a fickle and meaningless place. Those who have absent fathers or unsupportive families, cherish and strengthen the bond between you and your child. If anyone wants to be there for you let them. Believe me, because nothing hurts the soul more than a life without love. And some things are just priceless…
I feel physically, emotionally, and spiritually drained.
I miss a part of me constantly. I have no energy to go on, but why do I push myself? I can feel it, I’m losing myself. My mind twisted. My heart aching. My dreams blistered. Why are the meadows dying?
In the summer breeze. When everything grows. Only GOD knows
