April 7th, 2015

Yesterday was the day. I think my mom was more nervous than I was. We arrived a little early, and filled out paperwork. After a few minutes, I was taken to the back and had a sonogram done to see exactly how far I was and what my options were. They laid me down on a table, and put cold jelly on my stomach. After some poking around with the wand, the doctor determined I was 9 weeks and 1-2 days along. That's a lot less than I anticipated. He asked if I had questions, and then the nurses told me to use the bathroom before we got started. I prayed again in the bathroom and asked God to take this child and make them understand how much it was loved. I put my hand on my stomach and said I love you. Then I was escorted into a room and given a gown. I put it on, and was then seated in a horizontal chair-like thing. We sat there for a while, and my mom was growing more nervous by the second. I was enjoying every last moment I had. The doctor came in and everything began. They gave me gas to knock me out a bit, but I was still aware. Then it felt like every tool on the planet was being put into my vagina. It was uncomfortable, but not painful. The actual procedure itself lasted 20 seconds, and the doctor even counted with me. One nurse held the gas to my face, and the other one was holding my hand. It was more painful than I thought it would be. They sat me up in the chair and gave me tea and Tylenol after the procedure. I was out of it from the gas, and ended up throwing up a couple times. I was in recovery for about 20mins before I got dressed and ready to go. My mom had to help dress me; I couldn't even put my own bra on. I made a return appointment for next week to make sure everything went well and my body is handling it ok. I was slow and nauseous all the way home, but I made it. I put on a diaper because of the amount of bleeding. I had some food and kept it down, then rested. Sleeping last night wasn't easy, and so I decided to stay home from school today. I got a note from the doctor saying that time off is fine, so I'll be excused. I've heard of people who have done this and deeply regret it. I don't think I'm one of those people. I regret having to do it, but not doing it itself. I know it was the best choice. But it felt different and lonely waking up knowing my little thing wasn't with me. Even so, I know that my baby will always be with me and in my heart until we're reunited one day. I was completely fine until I went to write this post, now I'm getting emotional and kind of depressed. I knew this would happen. I just hoped that I would have support from the man I love.

My Little Thing

The last week hasn't been easy. I told my mom about being pregnant, and she was obviously upset. However, she was much more upset that I didn't tell her sooner. I had been walking around with this knowledge for about 3 weeks before I told her. She said it must have been so hard for me to carry around. She's right, it was and still is. But she explained a lot of things to me. Our insurance doesn't cover any kind of prenatal care for me. And the expenses that would come with a baby are much to great for us to easily handle. We still have doctor bills to pay from my dad's cancer a few months ago. The type of cancer he has is so aggressive that it always comes back within 2yrs after treatment. We don't know when or where it'll come back, but when it does, it will require a lot of money and energy on our end. It's likely to come back with a vengeance. She gave me straight facts and shot down my dream of raising this baby. Ultimately, the decision is mine, and I know that. It took me a couple days to think and get my head on straight, but I came to a conclusion. We simply can't handle a baby right now, no matter how we may try to pull it off. Every child deserves to be given the best life possible, and I can't provide that at 19. I can't even sustain myself, let alone someone else. I've always been pro-choice, but I never thought I'd be in the position to choose. Life is funny that way I guess. This wasn't an easy decision, and I hate having to do it. I prayed and spoke to the baby. There's this really nice open letter online that went viral a few months ago from a mother to her aborted baby. She explains that she's still dealing with her own issues, and that bringing another life into that situation isn't a positive thing for anyone. I completely agree. I believe it's called Little Thing if anyone is interested. I read it when it first became popular and I thought it was sweet. But now it truely makes sense to me. Unless you're in the position I'm in, you can't grasp the feelings or emotions that are going through my mind and heart. I'm going Tuesday morning at 10am to have it done. I'm scared and sad and hurting, but I know it's for the best. I feel so alone. I still have the baby in my stomach, and I sure as hell know it's there. I'm still peeing constantly and the morning sickness hasn't really gone away. While I may be feeling a flood of emotions, I also feel a sense of peace. I know this child won't be brought into my crazy world. I know I'm not ready for it. If I had the means to leave school and be able to support this baby, I would do it a million times over. But it doesn't matter what I want. What matters is what the baby needs.
I love my little thing, and I always will. I'll never forget the short but meaningful journey we took together. You taught me a lot, and you gave me patience. I appreciate you and your little life more than you can imagine. I know I'll meet you someday in heaven when I get old and finish my time on earth. I don't want you to think that I don't love you, or that you were a burden. You are and will always be a blessing to me. Conceiving you wasn't a mistake in the slightest, it was simply the timing. When Tuesday comes and I say goodbye, it won't be forever. It'll just be till I see you again. Just as I won't forget you, I hope you won't forget me. I'm your mother, as will I always be.

Maturation

I've disappeared for a long while. I doubt I'll have a lot of time to come back and blog like I used to. A major event that happened since I last updated was my uncle (my mom's brother) having a heart attack and ending up in the CICU. It was a bad heart attack and he was kept in the CICU for about a week. He had a defibrillator put in to make sure it wouldn't happen again. I went to visit him in the hospital twice. It was the first time I had seen him or my cousins in about 4 or 5yrs. My uncle looks older, but maybe that was just from the whole hospital thing. My aunt also came down from upstate to visit him in the hospital. She looks much older and different. She used to have short salt and pepper hair, and how it's pulled back into a long white pony tail. Again, I hadn't seen her in years. My mom refused to go to the hospital to see my uncle because of all the bad blood they've had, and I kind of understand to a degree. It was nice to see my family and finally make a connection to the half I haven't seen in what feels like forever.
Another life-changing event has happened as well. Sometime around mid to late October, I will be expecting a baby. I am officially pregnant. Two positive tests, a couple weeks of morning sickness, tender breasts, and the whole nine yards later, I'm positively pregnant. I found out on March 9th. I'm unsure of how far along I am. The last time I had my period was my birthday (January 5th). I could be anywhere from 6-7 weeks, to 9-10 weeks. I've only told a handful of people and intend to keep it that way for as long as I can. I haven't even told my parents yet. I have an appointment with an OBGYN on April 1st. My mom and I are going together since we booked appointments right after each other. The appointment couldn't come at a better time. My mom has been very affectionate lately and I see this as being super comforting. Now is my time to tell her. I have to tell her before my appointment. I don't want to just blindside her with this. This is terrifying, but I have to do what I have to do. I'm going to finish this semester with 62 completed credits. That's enough to qualify me for the NYPD. I'm going to drop out of school for now, work and save money as much as I can (I've sent out numerous applications to anyplace local), and eventually pop around October/November. It sounds like my mom is getting a promotion type thing where she's going to be able to work from home. This is the biggest blessing I could have asked for. Of course I'm going to take care of the baby myself, but having my mom home as well would be amazing. She won't have to quit work and could still help me to some degree. I'm terrified at the aspect of being a mom. As crazy as it may sound, I'm already in love with the baby inside me. I haven't even seen it yet or heard it's heartbeat, but I know it's there. I'm trying to eat healthier for the baby, and do whatever I can to be the best mother I could be. This isn't what I wanted at the age of 19, but I have to deal with it. There is no turning back now. All I know is that all the puking, cramps, shortness of breath, exhaustion, constant trips to the bathroom, and stress will pay off when I see my baby's face.
I just wanted to let whatever readers I happen to have left know about what was going on and why I pulled a bit of a disappearing act. I'll try to keep up as much as possible, but stressed can't quite describe what I'm going through right now. I will definitely try to deliver on posts and updates. I can promise that much. Wish me luck and send me some much need positivity.

Into the Jungle

The semester has started and I'm already stressed beyond belief. I have school under control, but everything else is a mess. I haven't planned anything for photography club. I got really sick a couple days ago. I've been fighting with my mom. JP and I have been very up and down. I try to help him and do what I can to make him feel better when he's down, but it gets me no where. Just this morning I bought his wife a coffee to help get her in a better mood and ordered my own coffee the way JP likes it because I knew he'd be drinking most of it. Yet, I got scolded because someone hit me up on Facebook. We aren't even friends, but we have mutual friends. I don't know this guy, but JP insists it's probably someone I've fucked or are still fucking. Then he suddenly had to get home and left me on the side of the road to catch a bus instead of driving me 5 more minutes to the station himself. I try my hardest to be a good person to him and maintain by own integrity by not folding to his ridiculous ideas and theories. I actually went out on a limb and contacted a tv show with our situation about the suspected cheating and lying. I didn't think they would actually get back to me to be honest. But low and behold, I got a call last night saying to call them back when I got the message (I missed the initial call). I was thrilled. I immediately told JP and he was resistant. I don't exactly want to do this on tv, but hey, it gets us a free professional polygraph. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to prove my innocence and loyalty to JP.
On a happier note, I spent time with my dad when I was sick. I napped on the couch and he brought me fresh water and made me soup. Then we watched a movie (The Secret Life of Walter Mitty). We were commenting on it and discussing it like movie critics. It was fun and really sweet. I like hanging out with my dad like that. If only it would happen more often.

Anywhere

It's hard to blog when I have no idea what I'm going to write. I want to write everything and anything, but my fingers can only type so much. Recently I've been feeling weird. Depression is definitely there, but sometimes I feel a certain disconnect. I don't know how to describe it or even make it make sense to someone else. There are just some brief moments where I don't feel like I'm actually here in this world. I feel like a ghost who walks among humans. Social interaction is becoming increasingly difficult, even with my family. As soon as dinner ended, I headed up to my room and that's where I stayed up until now. I avoid contact and don't want to interact with anyone. I'd rather stay in bed and do whatever I wanted online. I could marathon a tv show, watch anime, make fun of dumb music videos, talk to my friends, take quizzes, or maybe even do some productive reading and research. Now that everyone is asleep, I'm awake. I came to get myself a glass of water and stalled out in the kitchen. It's dark outside, and the house is quiet. The only thing making a noise is a timer we have for our backyard light. Even as a kid, I remember that timer sound with its constant muffled ticking. I don't notice it anymore unless it's silent in the house. As I look around, I see different items belonging to the family. A party invitation for Erik, my father's glasses, my mom's purse, and even scattered dog toys. But where are my things? I haven't noticed it till now, but even my belongings have been migrating back to my room. I'm caving in on myself. I don't like being alone, but I'm isolating myself. I look around the house and remember the memories I've had here. Numerous birthdays and Christmases with my grandparents, sleeping over here every Friday night as a kid, and sitting in the old kitchen with my grandmother as she made coffee and breakfast. It was filled with so much positivity when I was growing up, but now I want to leave and run away as quickly as I can. I want to forget my worries and stresses and start living life how I want to live it. If I had the time and money, I would pack my bags, book a flight to Europe, and travel for at least a couple years (bringing JP with me of course). I'd live in each country for a little while, and take my sweet time exploring. I would meet my distant relatives, and visit a castle my mom's side of the family has. I'd take in the sights, smells, and tastes of every country and region. I don't want to think about school or work or family or anything anymore. I want to make myself happy. I've been crying too much lately; it isn't healthy. I can't even write a proper blog post anymore. My thoughts are everywhere and I can't stay focused long enough to make a coherent entry. Consider this post just another mindless collection of word vomit.

In Disarray

I just realized that pretty much the last 6 months of my life have been erased from the blog. Awesome. Let's do a quick recap shall we?
- My dad was diagnosed with bladder cancer
- I came out about my rape as a child
- I'm currently in therapy to help my depression and aid in my coping skills
- I no longer work at the bagel shoppe (I'm currently unemployed)
- I've been in a relationship with JP for almost 7 months. We're not exactly the most stable couple, but we love hard and fight hard.
- My depression has taken a serious down turn, and I literally forget to eat some days
- I have become an avid Taylor Swift fan

Ok, so now that that stuff is out there, let's get to it. I've been isolating myself a lot in the last couple days. I stay in my room, listen to music, watch videos, talk to friends, and stay in bed. I like being alone sometimes, especially away from my parents. My mom and I got into a bad fight a couple days ago and she told me to jump out into traffic because it would be easier and quicker than my current situation (having a B- GPA for last semester, and slowly turning into a depressed wreck). It hurt, but I put on the face of indifference and tried to shake it off. I want to take all the money I have and just do something crazy. I want to disappear out west for a while, or even leave the country entirely, I'm sick of life as it is. I want to love life again and feel inspired by the world around me. I can't even enjoyably take photos anymore. I feel like a terrible club president. I don't even have passion for my art anymore.
I was just in the middle of cleaning and Thinking Out Loud by Ed Sheeran came on. I couldn't help but to sing along. I ended up serenading my cat. Even he doesn't seem to care about me anymore. He refuses to cuddle me or let me hug him, but he at least tolerates it when I cradle him like a baby. Why can't I even think? I feel like my thoughts are so scattered and in such disarray. Classes start back up in less than a week. Can I really kick ass this semester? Or am I going to fail, crash, and burn?

Paper Planes

My last few posts have been deleted yet again. With a bad memory like mine, I like to keep records of my life and its happenings. I haven't updated in a while because it's hard to gather thoughts when your mind just won't stop producing them. JP and I have been sort of up and down lately, but we were getting to a better place. We're working on  trust and having a better relationship.
I went bowling with my family a week ago. It wasn't our usual place, and it was a bit crowded. The family next to us had unruly children who kept using our balls (3/4 of us have custom balls), and touching our scoreboard controls. The last time I was beginning to lose my patience and removed the kids hand from the controls myself. JP and I had gotten into a little bit of spat before I went out, so I wasn't in the best mood. Slowly, I began to feel a bit better with my family though. Bowling has always been a family thing with us. My grandparents on my father's side were avid bowlers and were in a league together. I remember one time when I was little, they took me with them. I was clearly getting bored (it was a league member only session, so I couldn't bowl). My grandfather came to me and handed me a small stack of paper. He then taught me how to make paper airplanes. He showed me a couple times, then left me to practice on my own. I finished the entire stack of paper, and still couldn't make one that would fly right. My grandfather said it takes practice, and with practice, everything gets better. I don't know why that memory stuck with me, it just did. Anyway, while my family and I were bowling, the music they had on was a pre-teen/teen mix of Disney, KidsBop, and age appropriate songs. It was tolerable until Justin Beiber came on a couple times. At one point, Love Story by Taylor Swift came on. I haven't heard that song in forever, yet I knew the lyrics word for word. It took all I had not to break out into song. We finished, and I was impressed with myself. The first round I came in second with a 110, the second round I was dead last, but then I won the last round. Bowling is sort of therapeutic in a weird way. The sound of the balls hitting the lanes, the pins falling, and people laughing. It puts me in a happy place.
Since I last updated, a couple of things have happened. I turned 19. I found out I'm going to Cuba for a study abroad program during Spring Break. I started taking a medley of vitamins to help with my depression/overall health. My mom has become much more of a friend to me than I could have imagined. I gained true freedom to be able to go out somewhere without being questioned. And finally, I found out I'm not pregnant. A lot can happen in a matter of a week or so I suppose. Life has a funny way of changing things and always keeping us on our toes.