Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Single Mom

I had a conversation with someone I've known since high school today that really has had the wheels in my head spinning. This person is currently pregnant with her first child. She lives a cookie cutter life of being educated, having a career, meeting Mister Right and marrying him, buying a house, and now having a baby. She's the kind of girl who talked about all these things since high school and now she is living out each of the items on her checklist. Good for her.

I, on the other hand, NEVER had a checklist. I grew up promising myself (and the world) that I wasn't going to have children when I got older. I had plans of a career in law enforcement, nice cars, a large house, and plenty of vacations. Not once in my big picture did I have a husband or children on that list. I knew at a young age that I didn't want to carry the title of a person who is responsible for the upbringing of a child. Fast forward to two years after I graduated high school, and I was staring at a positive pregnancy test.

YIKES...

I still remember the day in March of 2003 that I found out I was pregnant. I had just turned 20 years old and didn't have the slightest clue as to what a MAJOR responsibility was. I had been dating C's dad for about a year and a half by then, which was hardly a long time at all. I had a feeling deep inside of me that I was pregnant, but I had taken several home tests and they all came out negative. C's dad and I decided to go to Planned Parenthood and take a test there. That's when I got the news that I was pregnant and due that November. I felt like a ton of bricks had just fallen on top of my head. I couldn't move or think or say a word.

C's dad was ecstatic. He was so happy that we were going to have a baby. When I came to my senses, all I could see was my future being flushed down the toilet. What was I going to do? Where was I going to live? How was I going to survive off of a retail salary from both he and I? What the heck was I thinking?! I remember crying my eyes out once we got to the car. C's dad got so angry with me. "Why are you crying? You should be happy! We are going to have a baby and have our own family and be happy." That just made me cry more, because deep down in my heart, I knew I wouldn't be happy. This wasn't in my life plans.

For a good month and a half, I struggled with the decision of going through an abortion. I knew that me having a baby would break my parents heart, and having an abortion would leave no proof, other than a hole in my heart. Ultimately, I couldn't do it. We ended up telling my parents that I was pregnant on April 23, a day I am most likely never to forget. It was the day I broke my dad's heart, as he learned that his little girl was no longer a little girl anymore. While I don't remember the details of our conversation, I just remember my dad asking us how we were going to fix this. He said we had to get married if we were planning on having this baby. Umm.... once again, this wasn't in my life plans either!

My dad had left to Mexico  for his annual trip to visit my grandmother a few days later. He was very hurt by the news and made sure I knew that. While he was gone, we looked at chapels and churches and also at rings. I guess we had a wedding to plan for. SCARY.

While dad was gone, he had called from Mexico. We had a talk about everything and he told me that I didn't have to get married if I didn't want to. He said while it would be the ideal situation, marriage is a once in a lifetime thing and should be saved for people who truly loved one another. A baby was no reason to force marriage upon us. Being young and naive, I insisted that was what needed to happen because this baby needed to have a mom and dad. Although he was hurt, my dad said he supported whatever decision I made, but reminded me that I didn't have to if I didn't want to. It wasn't until I was older that I realized that dad saw things I didn't see.

A few months into my pregnancy, at nearly 20 weeks, I found out that my cervix was "short" and I had to be placed on bed rest. Seriously? I was 20 years old!!! I didn't want to stop living my life and stay in bed all day and all night, but I had to. If I wanted this baby to be healthy, I had to make sure to do whatever it took for him to survive and not make an early appearance, this included putting our wedding on hold. 8 years later, I truly believe that being placed on bed rest was an unofficial sign from God.

During the time I was home, I had PLENTY of time on my hands. I had time to think and be online and research. Research I did do. At 7 months pregnant and almost a year of being suspicious about his lies, I found out that C's dad had been cheating on me, with a wide array of girls (they were hardly women). I was devastated to think that the person whom I was supposed spend the rest of my life with would do that to me. I was sacrificing living my life for this baby, OUR baby, and he was out screwing around on me. It was the biggest betrayal I had ever felt in my life. I remember feeling numb with pain. It was the most awful feeling to be hurt like that. A feeling that I would never wish upon even my worst enemy.

For the couple of months leading up to C's delivery, from the time I found out about the infidelity of the person who had promised my parents and I that he would be there to accept the responsibility of husband and father, I tried my best to forgive and forget. I tried to think about the future and not the past, but it was too difficult. His manipulative ways were finally visible, and I was able to see through the facade he put up as someone who wanted nothing but the best for me and our baby, and see him as the lying, cheating, abusive selfish jerk that he was. 5 weeks after C was born, his "dad" verbally and physically abused me for the last time. I knew that I had someone else to live for, and I would never let my son be a witness to something like that. That was the beginning of my new life.

From that day forward, I was a single mother. I never realized how much that label carried until I was one. Waking up in the middle of the night for feedings. Giving baths. Changing diapers. Learning how to be a mom, as I went back to school when he was 3 months old, was one of the most difficult things I had ever had to do. There would be nights where I would cry, asking God why this happened to me. This wasn't on my checklist of life and I had to be the one to pay for the mistake I made by not choosing wisely. Had it not been for my parents, I would've never gotten through the past 7 1/2 years since C was born.

C would cry, and I would take him to my parent's room. When he was sick, I didn't know what to do, and went straight to my parents. I was so resentful for the life I was "stuck" with, that I found any excuse I could use to get out of the house. "School", "study groups", "projects", etc. I didn't want to be a mom. This wasn't fair. I didn't want to do this alone. I only thought about myself. Till this day, one of the biggest regrets I have ever had was letting mom and dad fill in when I couldn't. It should have been me doing all the work of taking care of him and raising him, BUT it wasn't. I can't take full credit for C being the AMAZING child that he is today because I haven't done most of the work needed to rear him. In that aspect, I feel like a failure. But I am so thankful for having their support to get through it all.

C's "dad" has been out of the picture for the past 5 1/2 years. He hasn't seen him since he was 2 years old, and really only started caring to ask about him over the course of the past year, as he is now a father to two of his own children (he's also married as well) and seeing what he is missing out on. It's way too late to try to fix what he has broken. C will ask questions from time to time about him, and while it's hard for me to answer, I do my best to explain to him the situation. He now calls him his "fake dad". He recently asked me when we could find him a "real dad."

As a mom, I strive to give my son everything I possibly can. I would hand him the moon if I could. It breaks my heart to not be able to give him the basic gift of a loving, responsible, respectful and consistent father. It makes me want to cry when I hear him talk about how "everyone" has a dad but him. He said he wishes he had a dad of his own, and not a grandpa that he calls dad. It's so painful to hear an innocent child talk that way. But such is the life of a woman working hard to do the job of a mother and father. A woman who isn't there to drop off her son and pick him up from school or volunteer in his class because I am busy working so that I can pay his tuition. A woman who struggles to give him the needs and wants of a 7 year old boy. It hurts my heart when I do my best to give him everything he needs, except the one thing that EVERY boy needs - a dad.

Had someone summed it up for me as to how hard this would be, maybe I would've made different life choices 10 years ago. Maybe I wouldn't have. While each day of being a single mother is a sacrifice, it is also very rewarding. The prize of having an amazing son who is smart, healthy compassionate and kind is the best thing I could have ever asked for. When I complain about all that I give up, I stop and think about him, and realize that his happiness is worthwhile. I love being a single mom - C's mom

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