In the Beginning...Part 1

One of my single most greatest accomplishments in life? Giving birth to my child. 

I had learned in my late teens that I may never be able to have kids. To be honest, I don’t even remember the reason, I just remembered that it had stuck with me so long that when I found out I was pregnant with my child, I was excited but also confused since I believed I couldn’t bear children. Nonetheless, I was having a child and I was excited. I was seeing someone at the time, but it wasn't official...(what's up with guys not wanting to commit?) Anyways, I can’t remember his reaction. I remember him drinking a lot. In the later years, I found out he was doing more than just drinking…drugs were involved too, but I’ll save that for another story. Anyways, I still remember feeling so nauseous. The first and part of the second trimester were the hardest (I thought at the time). I was always vomiting, always nauseous. I could barely eat. I remember my meals being only jello and the smell of burnt popcorn. Being sick all the time, I truly believed I was having a girl…because of that superstition, “ You know you’re having a girl when you’re always sick, she’s taking your beauty.” I remember thinking if she was a little girl, she can have all my beauty.  My doctor did confirm that I was having a girl. I was so excited. When I wasn’t sick, I would find myself shopping in the little girls section looking at some of the cutest outfits. I was excited to be a mother to a little girl. 

I had received some concerning news though. My doctor believed my daughter would be born with down syndrome. I had taken a test and the results weren’t showing what the doctors wanted. They asked us to come in. Her father and I went to the doctor’s and they gave the news. They said there was a chance our daughter wouldn’t live past 2 years after she was born. I remember being completely shocked. I didn’t know what to do, but I felt in my heart she was normal. I sang to her every chance I got and prayed. I didn’t want to lose my child at 2, that’s not enough time for me. The doctor suggested I take a test to know for sure. I was really scared too as I learned the test could potentially break the sack the baby was in. And it would ultimately kill her. Her father fought me on it and suggested I do it and I hesitantly agreed. 

At the appointment, the doctor told me what she was doing….to be honest, she was a bit rude. She automatically implied I chose to do the test so I can decide to terminate the pregnancy…I didn’t even have a reply to this. I wasn’t thinking about termination, I was trying to get through the test. (To be honest, if I had known what I know now, I would have completely snapped at that doctor and asked for someone else or not even taken that test at all)  *Note to some doctors: patients are humans too.

This wouldn’t apply to all doctors. Just the ones with bitter hate in their hearts…I hope they find peace. Anyways, during the test, the doctor poked a needle through my stomach, I prayed so hard that God keep my baby safe. 

When I got the results, it was good news. My baby girl was healthy, no indication of anything that could cut her life short. I was relieved…even though I felt I already knew this. Remember, I did the test for her father’s sake and I was naive to follow. 

The next few months were kind of a blur. There was so much that happened. I remember applying for better jobs at that time. I needed something stable because my job at the bank was awful and completely unstable. They would fire anyone for any little thing. I think things have changed nowadays for the better hopefully but at that time, I knew I had to get out of there. I interview for several government jobs and luckily was able to land one in a call center. The pay was a little bit lower than than what I was making at the bank, but it was stable. 

At that time, I was living with the father, in an apartment, in a not so good area. Let me tell you how different it was. I didn’t know this at the time, but he was doing drugs a long with drinking excessively. He would do this while I was at work and most nights, he went to see his other child. Leaving me alone at night. It made me nervous being home alone at night. Sometimes, you could hear the neighbors having really loud sex….and not the enjoyable kind. Other nights, you could hear them fighting….very violently. One night, I heard a car pull up to the house behind our apartment and gunshots rang. I was startled by the shots, I jumped and fell to the floor. I heard the car drive away. I remember police lights shining through the window in my room. I do think that is one of the more memorable times I had while I was carrying my daughter. 

Her father, at one point, forgot he was cooking and left the apartment. When he came back, the kitchen and living room were all up in smoke. He broke down the door to get to the kitchen. I was at work during all of this. When I came home, I could smell the smoke and the front door was partially off the hinges. It wouldn’t lock. Of course, he told me it would be fine, but I didn’t believe him. He left that night again and I was all alone. I barricaded the front door and my bedroom door out of fear someone would break in. The following nights were just as stressful. Still alone and doing my nightly routine of barricading the doors. I prayed every night that the baby and I would be okay. It wasn’t until her father decided to find a new place that we moved. My due date was getting closer, so we moved to a less crime filled area. It wasn’t the fanciest, but it was cozy and homey. I was happier there. It was a small apartment with 2 rooms. I felt safer there too. No awful noises of violence at night, just music and laughter. I’ll take that over violence any day.