This was not the plan; if I ever really had a plan. I was supposed to finally get out of my scared, little comfort zone and be the gypsy traveler that I used to be. I was supposed to be a better writer than I was letting myself be right now- I wanted to be like all of those classic writers that I loved... minus that alcoholism, suicide and major drug use. I was supposed to be like all my friends who are doing exactly what they love and excelling at it.
I was supposed to be.
I was supposed to be.
For 23 years I was supposed to be but never was.
Now I was staring at a pregnancy test and wondering if I ever could be. I had always disliked the color pink and now that it was telling me I was pregnant I hated it even more. Pregnant; that word was one that I never imagined using in context to myself. I never wanted children, heck, I never owned a doll as a child. I was much more comfortable playing in mud and climbing trees. Now I was left with a choice that I had never imagined myself making and I had no idea what I was going to do.
Two weeks later I found myself in a lobby- which smelled heavily of fake vanilla- waiting to get an ultrasound. I had yet to tell anyone about the pregnancy save for my then-boyfriend and best friend. I wanted to make sure that I was actually pregnant and not just infected with an alien or possessed by a creeptastic demon (hey, it could happen.) To say I was nervous would be the biggest understatement of the year: I was completely and utterly terrified to my core.
Fast forward an hour and I was stumbling out of the clinic like a drunken idiot, walking down the street in a haze. I was not only pregnant but was nineteen weeks along. Nineteen weeks of no symptoms, not showing, and not knowing that I was pregnant. I was pretty much a candidate for one of those “I didn't know that I was pregnant until I gave birth while square-dancing” shows. The strangest part of this was that even though I was scared, confused and a little upset, I was feeling a underlying wave of peace and happiness.
What. The. Frak.
My boyfriend left me after I told him I was pregnant, I ended up being the 23 year old, single pregnant girl without a job, and my parents asked me to move back in with them until my daughter is born. I’m not going to downplay it: I felt very broken. I spent a lot of time crying or angry with the situation but through it all I knew that keeping my daughter was the best choice I was ever going to make.Change happened to me and within me in a fairly short time and I believe this happens, to an extent, to every parent or parent-to-be. I learned to move on and be happy. Life isn't fair but making myself suffer was a stupid idea. I wasn't going to be a victim.
Single parenting is going to be hard: parenting in any situation is hard. I know that some days will be hell, other days I will want to give up. I don't know what I am doing; I don't know the correct books to read, the best stroller to get, how to wrap a baby carrier, or what Braxton-Hicks contractions were (I kept calling them “Higgs-Boson” contractions.) But I do know that I love this little person and that I will do anything to make sure she is okay. I am completely okay with figuring it out along the way. I'm lucky to have a community of friends and family who are supporting me in this. I had to learn to be okay with others helping me; a hard thing to do for someone who is used to do it all on her own.
I get frustrated sometimes when people come up to me and tell me how much a child needs a mother and a father in order to grow up healthy and not end up a raving lunatic. There isn’t much I can do in these situations except for pretend to listen and smile. But I can’t wait to explain to my daughter that families come in all shapes and sizes: Some have a mother and a father, others have a mother or a father, there are those who have two mothers or two fathers and still yet there are families that have a few moms and dads and that every single one of these families are beautiful. I feel no shame raising a child as a single mother and I do not feel like a victim. I may not be the perfect parent and there are still so many unanswered and scary questions that I know I will have to face but those answers will come with time.
Yeah, it wasn't the damn plan but honestly my plan wasn't working. I don't believe in fate or destiny but this little girl (who will be born in November) has completely changed my life for the better. I don't want to do things anymore, I just do them. She's shown me-without even being here yet- that my life is worth something if I believe it is. I want to travel with her, show her new and old ways of living, let her grow in her creativity and imagination. I want her to see the beauty and sadness in this world, be compassionate and strong, to run in the tall grass and forests like I once did. In realizing these things for my daughter I also realized that I wanted all of these things for myself.
Buckle up, Bree. This will be one insane journey.
I'm not a single mother, but I consider myself extremely lucky in that regard as I'm not sure I would have been strong enough to do it alone. My son just turned a year old a few weeks ago and no matter how much advise people give you your child is going to be different than everyone else's and you can only really learn as you go. Books to read? Whatever they are do it NOW, because you won't have time when the baby comes. You'll be too busy doing all the mundane activities but end up spending your "spare time" never wanting to put her down and trying to instill a sense of unwavering love and security with each cuddle and kiss. I have the UTMOST respect for single parents, both my mother and my sister (the latter for 10 years)were single parents and they are my heroes for everything they do and did. I think you are handling this whole thing with a beautiful sense of grace. Congratulations on the unexpected little one and for not giving in to despair.
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