Wednesday, January 6, 2010

raw sugar

Today was the first time I've told any school friends that I'm pregnant. It was accepted well and with congratulations. I've finally decided to only take 2 courses this semester. The courses hold a reasonable amount of work, cheap textbooks and basically no exam. My prof makes me laugh.
I'm happy that I'm still in school. I have so much free time... at least until the baby comes out.

I felt very exposed and raw when I informed my friends of my "secret". My heart was racing and my face felt like it was on fire.

The thing I hate most in the world are secrets. I hate the idea of people hiding the truth.... it's one thing to have private matters but another to go out of the way to be secretive about something.
I hate hiding. I hate secrets.

I'm a very truthful person. I tell the truth and I usually do it bluntly. It is a quality that many appreciate but also fear. My argument is that if no one else will tell you the truth, at least its good to know that one person will no matter what. I appreciate people who are honest. It takes courage and integrity to be able to speak the truth because, hey, it's reality.
I believe that as long as the truth is not used maliciously or is not fully backed up with facts, then it is one of the most important things in the world.

These past few months have been brutal for me. It feels like life is forcing away my most cherished values. My family still do not know I'm pregnant. Every time I leave my house, I have to go out of my way to wear clothes that "hide" my baby bump. And then, when I amongst ordinary people, I spend my time worrying about whether that person who just eyed me knows the truth. I don't like to blame things on my mother. I find it very irresponsible because at the end of the day, my actions are my decisions. It's just that my mother adds so much MORE stress onto the situation than necessary. I run out of the house wrapped in my winter coat because I fear she'll demand to see what exactly I'm wearing and than lament about how fat I am. I've had to physically go into hiding 4 times so far in the last month. My family or my mom's friends stop by and I have to either confine myself in my room or leave the house and find someway to pass the time.

I kept the baby. I didn't murder it. Shouldn't God be looking down on me smiling? Shouldn't He shower me with blessings? Why then does my life still suck? It seems like I'm just starting down the toughest road of my life and the end doesn't seem to be anywhere in sight. I try my very best to optimistic and happy but some days, everything just seems so hard and fruitless.

But, what can I do accept keep moving, right? Time will pass and this will all be a distant, sad memory.

Someone asked me whether, in hindsight, I would have aborted the baby.

My answer is still no but, honestly, I never knew it was going to be this hard. I did not expect my life to look like this. I did not expect to feel like this.

I envy the girls who could abort their babies. Ya, they would always wonder what-would-have-been but, all those thoughts would be what-ifs.... they didn't have to live it. They didn't have to live through the shame of being single and knocked up.

I guess the "right" path is always the hardest.

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