Alright so boom! I keep typing this and deleting it, writing it down then erasing it, and I’m tired of that so here it goes…
My child’s father treated me like absolute shit for the entire 9 months that I was pregnant. There, I said it. And I’m clenching my jaw as I’m typing this because I don’t want that to be the image that is forever associated with him; but it’s the truth. He ruined my pregnancy with his selfishness, immaturity, inconsistency, and just plain shittiness. (I almost put an LOL there but there is nothing funny about this.)
I found out I was pregnant on January 15, 2020. I called my 2 best friends, reveled in their excitement and anxiety, mixed it with mine, and then got the balls to ca- text Bean’s dad and tell him the news. His response was “we’ll get it handled” and from then on, I knew. I knew any decision I made next was going to have to be for me and me only; so I chose. I chose life and I chose Bean; he chose to take matters into his own hands and try to choose abortion. Planned Parenthood address after address, “I’m not ready” texts followed by “If you keep it, we’re breaking up” messages, paternity denial- the works. I chose Bean, by myself and for myself. And then, I had to shrink myself and downplay my certainty to keep him around. I spent the first 6 weeks of my pregnancy finding any and every excuse to justify my reason for not getting an abortion when “I don’t want to” should have been enough. I found myself texting him asking how he was doing when I was the one creating a life, scared to tell my family, anxious about even going full term with this child. I was the one texting him. I went to every doctor’s appointment alone, went out of my way to keep him and his family included, and still, I was the one texting him- begging him to be a family and a present partner and father.
I was always met with “I don’t want to catch you off guard at the hospital so I’m telling you now, I want a DNA test. I know you didn’t cheat but I still need to be sure.” or “Please don’t put me on child support” or “Nah, I’m not coming to put the crib up today cause I don’t feel like it. Can you do me this favor though?” And like a dummy, I would do the favor, in hopes that he’d come through for me and he never did. I spent 9 months carrying and growing a child, by myself, lonely as a muthaf^€%@ and he still refuses to see what he did in its entirety. And that’s (almost) okay now. Because I get it. It’s hard to be a good and present father when you’ve never had one. That’s not an excuse though or at least not one that I’m going to let fly.
My Bean deserves an active and present father, or father figure, and I will not let anyone deny her that experience- myself included. That means I finally have to post this and forgive him for making me feel the lonely and disconnect and disappointment that he made me feel almost a year ago. I have to continue to forgive him when he doesn’t show up in the ways that I expect him to or how I think he should. I gotta take the current good with the old bad and make it some kind of great so I don’t subconsciously taint their relationship. I have to tell her all his ugly AND mine and pray that she makes the best choices for herself; not for my selfish desires. I’m freeing myself to talk about my experience as often as possible because, although it’s not pretty, it’s mine and it’s apart of our story and you can’t tell a story without all of the chapters. So this is chapter 1: A Fresh Start.
The Hot Young Mom 