Pregnancy is a beautiful thing, but like the saying goes, beauty is pain. It’s a different experience for all mothers, but this is my experience.
I found out I was pregnant at 5 weeks. I was in a dark place, but that positive test definitely brought some light to my life. I immediately stopped smoking weed and cigarettes, like I hadn’t been depending on them for 8 years. I stopped drinking, which was a whole other challenge on its own. I became extremely lazy and tired…like all the time. And then the morning sickness. Oh, the morning sickness. No one told me morning sickness can last all day, and in my case, for 10 fucking weeks. I couldn’t hold down a saltine cracker for more than 2 minutes without rushing to the bathroom.
I suffer from depression and anxiety, which is where the weed would come in and help me out. It’s been hard to deal with all this on my own. No one talks about how your mental health issues hit a peak when you’re pregnant. You turn into a soft, dependent, pathetic mess.
I’m living in North Carolina, alone in a farmhouse. I miss my boyfriend, my mom, my cousins, and my friends. And honestly, before pregnancy, I didn’t miss anyone. Not sure if it’s the seclusion or the baby, but I’m not feeling either of em at the moment.
My boyfriend and I had been conquering a long distance relationship for a year already. I can’t lie, that shit is anything but easy. But could say the same thing about pregnancy. Being pregnant gave our relationship a whole new set of obstacles. I began to resent him for not being there to hold my hair as I struggled to catch a breath over the toilet. I’d get mad at him for not checking in on me every 10 minutes like I wish he could. I was also mad at him for the fact that he wasn’t there to cook and clean for me. I had to remind myself, I’m a fucking boss ass bitch who didn’t need a man. Which was also a whole other challenge on its own.
2020 was…well you were there. Even in my saddest, darkest moments, I am so grateful that I ended the year with a little blessing inside of me. I’m a big believer in the saying, everything happens for a reason. I was meant to be a mother. I finally found my purpose in this sick, cruel world. And to raise a child with such an amazing hard working, independent, caring man. He will always provide for his child, just like he’s done for me. I couldn’t be more proud of my decisions that led me here.
I used to find myself playing back memories in my head, like why the fuck did I do this or that way back when, but what if I didn’t? Everything I’ve done, or didn’t do, has led me to exactly where I stand today. I can’t tell you how happy I am to be standing here. No matter how scared I get from time to time, I am so fucking thrilled to meet my child. To grow with my child. To teach him or her how to be a decent humane being.
I can’t fuck this up. I won’t fuck this up.