Scares of Pregnancy

So many people write about the beauty of pregnancy. The wonderful moments of “blessings and bliss” but not everyone likes to ackowledge, publicly, about the scares and tears. I was one of them, too, so I know.
You try to conceive with this notion in your mind that it will be a true blessing and all you’ll have to go through are uncomfortable sleeping positions, maybe some nausea, and heartburn. Other than that, you don’t think about anything else. I mean, why even think about the not so happy thoughts? Will it into existence, right?
I’ve had the worst nausea imagineable since the start of conception and upset stomachs don’t even really begin to describe how I felt. I lost 5lbs in two days from throwing up and not being able to keep anything down. I felt miserable. My face broke out like a teenage boy going through puberty. I did NOT feel very pretty in these moments. Still, I was so thrilled to be carrying life within me.
Here I am, almost in the home stretch to the second trimester, the safe zone, and I walked out of work in tears because I just passed the biggest blood clot I have ever laid eyes on. “Oh, God, no. Not my baby. Anything but my baby.No, no, no, no.” I had to collect myself, compose myself, and calmly drive to the nearest Urgent Care center. And I was fine, keeping my nerves calm as to not scare my 4-year-old who was with me.
“Hi, I need to be seen, I’m having some bleeding,” I said to the front desk receptionist.
“What kind of bleeding?”
I swallowed shakingly, tears filling up my eyes quicker than high tide and said, “I think I’m losing my baby.I don’t know what to do. I just need help, please.”
They took me in right away, no more questions in the lobby. My ten week old fetus was later seen on the ultrasound, kicking away. Heart rate at a steady 195 bpm. I cried of relief but it was so hard to be happy. I thought I was losing my precious child. I kept thinking, in that moment, that if it was gone, truly gone, I would not be able to try again. The pain of even thinking of this loss was too great for me to handle.
They called it a Threatened Abortion/Miscarriage. Threatened.
I took the doctor’s advice and stayed on bedrest. But not for very long. My sister was getting married and I needed to put my big girl pants on to be there for her big day. Not long after this happened, I packed our bags and drove six plus hours. I was in so much discomfort, so much agony. I was depressed. But I knew I had to be there for her and I needed to be surrounded by family. And what a beautiful weekend it was, full of love and happiness.
After coming back home, I went back to work for three days. Three normal days until I woke up that one morning with blood trickling down my thigh. “Fuck, not again!” I woke up my young toddler, told him he needed to quickly get dressed and come with mommy to the doctor’s. We are going to check on baby this morning.
Same situation at 12 weeks gestational age. I should be safe here, right?
Another sonogram showed baby kicking away, learning how to swallow in utero, and just bouncing away in the amniotic sac. I should be happy. I should be so relieved. So why am I not? I can’t help but worry and the last thing I need is added stress, says the doctor. I am trying. And my wonderful, dear boyfriend is doing all of the lifting up he can so that I don’t need to stress. So why do I feel so down, still?
I feel flutters now. A movement made by baby called quickening is happening within me. I start to crack a little smile here and there. “Thank you for letting me know you’re safe, little one.” I am doing all that I can to make sure you stay healthy until 39 weeks when I can finally hold you in my arms.
13 week first trimester scan went beautifully. Somersaults, back flips, and swimmer’s kicks prove to me you are stronger than I am imagining.
But I’m still not out of the clear. Still spotting. Still cramping. Still stressing.
No one likes to talk about the scares and the tears … but they very much so exist, still.

Hello, Is It Me You’re Looking For?

For so long I have been searching for the me I thought I knew.

Have you ever pondered for so long about who you are as a person? What makes me so special and unique? What separates me from them? Who am I as a person or individual? Where do I begin and us start? I’m beginning to wonder if I ever really knew myself at all. Does anyone ever know anyone, especially one’s own self?

I remember when my father used to ask me what I wanted to be when I grew up. I mean, that was such a normal question to ask young kids; what do you want to be when you grow up? I’m pretty sure I had a different answer every few years. When I was five I wanted to be a Nun. When I was seven I wanted to be a teacher. When I was ten I wanted to be a lawyer. When I was 12 I was so sure I wanted to be a nurse. At the age of 15 I wanted to pursue a career in Journalism. By age 20 I wanted to be on American Idol but was always too stage frightened to actually go. Now, on my last few months to the journey of 30, I am struck again with the question, what do I want to become?

Most people my age seem to have their lives in order, right?  People my age have spouses, children, a house, and a 401K, right? Somewhere in America there are people my age who are still trying to figure this whole life thing out, right? Someone please tell me I am not alone in all of this thinking.

I have friends who have kids and they still find time to go to the clubs at night or have brunch in the middle of the day. I have friends who bar hop every friday and saturday night as if that is a normal thing to do. I have friends who go on regular dates to the salon to get their hair and nails done like it is just a simple sip of water. No care in the air. It is just so easy for those friends of mine.

I work six, if not seven, days in the week. I travel to the grocery store more than any other travel. I have a mortgage. I have a vehicle that I proudly own. I have two beautiful kids who fill my heart and loosen my wallet. I work to make ends’ meet and keep my family afloat. Somehow, though, I keep asking myself if there is more for me.

My Moment of Truth

Before I begin, I must warn you about the raw material you are about to indulge in. There will be explicit content and 100% real emotions. 

Sigh … where do I even begin? Should I take you back to five years ago when my ex cheated on me, pregnant with his child, with some older chick named Denise? I feel like that is where my whole love life got screwed over. That whole ordeal really fucked with my mindset.  And now he is happily married and I am still looking for love. Funny how that shit works, huh?

Here goes my story … 

Seven years ago, I was pregnant with my first child. I was thrilled and scared and anxious to be a mother. The father, though, maybe took it a lot harder than I imagined. The moment we got the results from the pee-stick, he jolted to Denise’s house. He told me he had to go talk to his “boy” about it. He was stressed. No big deal, I thought. Wrong. 

He went to Denise and poured his heart to her. He wasn’t ready to be a dad. He will ask me for an abortion. He doesn’t want a part in this. I didn’t find out about any of this until later on when I confronted her at seven months pregnant. I was mortified. 

I wasn’t innocent in any of this, either, so don’t get me wrong. I got scared and ran back home to my family, four hours away. At this point he wanted to keep the baby, I think. He drove to my parents’ house and surprised me. We made love and I thought everything was going to work out. Until Denise decides to email me to tell me she was fucking my man. What a crazy ass bitch. I hated her. I despised her. Still do, I’m sure of it. 

Fast forward to April 2011 … my big boy was born and I was officially in love. I felt no love greater than the love he gave me. I stayed single because I wanted to focus on myself and my son. His dad took me to court for joint custody … and he made hot, passionate love to me after court. I thought we were going to get back together. He made it seem as though we would. August 2011 I will never forget how he made me feel from that day onwards. Lie after lie. Deceit after manipulation. Disgusting. 

But throughout the years we worked on our differences and became amicable for our son. Beautiful blended family. 

Now my second son’s father is a real asshole. How does anyone have children and not claim them? He denied my sweet little boy from the moment of my pregnancy. He decided to let me do all the hard work and try again when my son is a year and a half. He blames being incarcerated but we all know that he has no one to blame but himself. 

I sure know how to pick them, don’t I? 

Fast forward to recently, where I have been “talking to” this guy. And he just so happens to be in a long term relationship. He claims to be unhappy. He claims to have no intimacy with said girlfriend for nine long months now. How do I believe that? But somehow I do. I’m falling for him. Hard. And do you know who I see when I look in the mirror? Denise. Fucking bitch ass Denise is who I see. Isn’t this great?!

The person I hated so passionately is the person I see in myself right now. I have no reason being with someone who is living wtih another woman. But why? Why? Why the hell did I put myself in this position? Why did I fall for someone who is so unavailable to love me back openly? Some days I really feel like a horrible human being. Some days, like today, I feel like Denise. 

It’s been two months. Two months worth of everyday conversations. Two months worth of “I miss you” and “when will I see you again?” Two months worth of video chatting. Two months worth of text messages back and forth. But those two months is nothing compared to the years you’ve spent with her. And I cannot compare to that. 

I am a horrible human being. And I should hate myself for it. 

A Mother’s Rant

I must admit, sometimes it does get a little lonely being a single mother. Sure I have my family who are all so very supportive and loving, but that doesn’t fill the romantic void. Sure I have my two sons whom I love so deeply and unconditionally, but a mother’s love isn’t the same as a woman’s love. Just to be able to cuddle up in bed after a long day of motherly duties would be nice. To be able to have someone who can appreciate all that I am doing and to share that joy with would be a blessing. To not have to go through big life moments alone would be euphoric.

And then I think to myself that anyone else could potentially take that attention away from my boys and maybe I’m not ready for that. These boys are my world. When God and fate and destiny think I’m ready to handle that extra someone, I’m sure they will push him in my direction. For right now, I’m happy to be alive and happy to be the one person these two boys call mommy.



The day is finally here; In less than five hours I will be on my way to the hospital to deliver this baby via cesarean. I am unbelievably nervous but also very excited, anxious, and happy. I am a human ball of emotions to say the least. It has been a long journey, and very dramatic and eye-opening. At the end of it all there will be a beautiful baby boy in my arms one more time, so I won’t complain. This is my life.

My oldest will welcome a new baby brother and I have the luxury of falling in love all over again. No matter what road I got on to get here nothing will change how I feel about my children. They are God’s gift. I only want to do my best to provide and care for my little loves for the rest of my life. Okay, time to get some shut eye … If and while I still can!