Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Ways to make your PERSONAL business card stand out

Feeling inspirational today.
I'm siting on my sofa with my beautiful, new (but not really) Mac and watching Team Canada vs. Russia.
Still working on designing my business card but need to take some professional pictures of myself to put on there. I'm loving I especially like how you can have a variety of different images in one package instead of one design.

Designing your business card.

1. Have a really interesting image... And I mean REALLY interesting. Something that stands out. Especially when making a personal business card, you don't have a logo. All you have is your name. You want to tempt your cardholder into keeping your card forever because it is so unique.

I'm a lover of quotes so I decided to put some of these quotes onto the front of my business card. I'm going to add a picture to the back. I'm a believer of customizing. If I give you a card, I gave you THAT card for a reason. Maybe it's a bit too much detail but I think it's the small details that make the difference.

2. Create a tagline. People don't know who you are or what you are offering. Keep your focus on your client. Being humorous also doesn't hurt if it is aligned with your personal brand.

3. Phone number. Marketlikeachick made a good point about putting your personal phone number on your business card. Your card could be left anywhere. Do you want to risk randoms calling your number?

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

Urban Jungle

Just came across this and thought it looked just awesome.

If you're not a brand, you're a commodity

I'm tired and the hockey game is going to be on soon so I'm going to keep today's blog short.

I apologize for not writing so much lately. Life drama; which hopefully, has been contained for at least 1 week.

Today, I want to talk more about personal branding. I'm currently reading Women, Work & The Art of Savoiur Faire. I just noticed that the title didn't end at "The Art". (Dyslexia? I think so).
I'm about half way through and quite enjoying the read. The author Mireille Guiliano is quite witty.

I'm still working on branding myself. I know it's a life long journey but I'm finally starting to get a good hold on it. I think the most difficult part of branding yourself is the "narrowing". You have to push back all the bullshit in your life and focus in on 1 or 2 things about you that make you stand out. Make you so incredibly unique that NO ONE can match you.
For a modest person, this might be a bit tough.

Last night, I realized that the two qualities that put me above everybody else is my ability to teach and present. I'm a formidable teacher (just ask all my swimming clients... I can teach ANYONE to swim. This is no exaggeration) and can put together an out-of-this world presentation in order to get the message across. These are not common skills. I hate it when presentation time comes around in school because no one really pushes the button. Everyone plays it safe... which ends up being really boring.

So I decided that I'm going to capitalize on this skill and actually help people. Like I said, presentation time is right around the corner, and I'm going to offer my expertise around school. I'm even going to have a business card. I'm so excited.

If you're not a brand, you're a commodity.

I refuse to be just another average face. I'm fantastic and I want to make other people fanshmabulous.

Monday, February 22, 2010

The mystery behind the face

Don't judge a book by its cover.

I've been hearing this quote since the beginning of time. For some reason, the idea behind this quote has been spinning in my mind.

I love meeting new people. What entices me the most is the slow discovery of who they are. With some people, it's easy to read exactly who they are from first glance. I used to love those people because understanding them didn't take any work. Nothing really surprised you.
But lately, it's the people that you can't categorize immediately that are a intriguing me. Who are these mysterious people? What are their lives like? What thoughts run through their minds?

I think that as we get older, we get more mysterious. More of our lives start getting hidden. But why? Why does society support people to keep their lives private... almost as if it's a shame for people to talk openly about their struggles and burdens. I'm only referring to being verbally open. Pouring one's heart onto the internet is a different story. It's easier to do when no one knows your face.

If you met me for the first time, I doubt that you'd think that this smiling girl was in the midst of a custody battle, receiving threatening calls from the father's crazy girlfriend and basically scared shitless that she's about to be a single mother in less than 2 weeks. You'd never know or guess unless I explicitly told you. But why? Why do I go to such great lengths to hide this from people? The moment I leave my house, I plaster a huge, fake smile on my face in hopes that I'll soon feel that way. To be truthful, it usually works. Those precious moments I'm out of the house, I can pretend that I really am happy and delude myself.

No one would know that when I'm home, I spend most of my time hiding in my room. I hide from my mom who at a moments notice can backlash me with harsh words blaming me and the baby for shaming her, for ruining her life, etc. etc. I haven't seen the rest of my family in 9 months. Anytime someone drops by, I have to crawl under my bed covers and pretend I'm asleep in case they barge into my room.

I don't know why I hide my true feelings from people. I think it's because I'm scared they'll shun me or think less of me. I used to be very judgmental before I got pregnant. I'm afraid people will think that I've brought this on myself... or that I've done something to deserve this.

I was at school today. As I was walking to the bathroom, I felt a bunch of people looking at me and I couldn't help but think how much more this sucked for me than it does for D. People look at me and they think, "Look at that chic who's knocked up. Wonder what she did to get herself into that position". I bet when people look at D (and know that he got his ex pregnant), they probably think, "Wow. Poor guy now has to spend the rest of his life paying child support for a child he didn't want".

My mom pities D. She worded it as me ruining D's life by forcing a baby on him with my decisions; he had no chance in the matter.

I don't know what I think about that. I do feel guilty sometimes for having changed so many people's lives because I didn't abort the baby.

Thursday, February 18, 2010

I don’t care if I can or can’t. I’m going to do it anyways.

He's Mr.Big.

D.... I've realized that he is my version of Mr. Big.

I've just spent the last 4 hours watching Sex and the City: Season 3: Disc 3. And I get it. I finally get why this show is so popular.

Sex and the City gives me that "feeling".

The "feeling" that life out there could be some much better; so much different. Life can be filled with shoes, fashion, laughs, men and independence. Is it ironic that I'm having this "feeling" with only 2 weeks away before I pop out a baby?

Back to Mr. Big. If you've never watched a Sex and the City episode, let me quickly update you. Mr. Big is Carrie Bradshaw's (played by Sarah Jessica Parker) man-child ex-boyfriend turned boyfriend turned ex-boyfriend, etc, etc. He is her central relationship. THE relationship that revolves around all her relationships (and there have been many). He's the one guy she always obsesses about and can never truly get out of her life. They have this spark, this underlying connection that always flows in-between their exchanges. He has this pull on her. He just has to smile and she back in the palm of his hand thinking that she knows who he truly is.

Sound familiar to anyone?

It's pretty much the delusion that almost all women fall for. We think we know the guy, we think we have this deep understanding that no one else has with him. But are we wrong? Are we thinking this way to make ourselves feel more special or is it true?

I'm totally pulling a Carrie Bradshaw. But I warned you.... I'm experiencing the "feeling".

I realized yesterday that whether D and I want it or not, we're going to be spending the rest of our lives together, connected by this one child. Is it ironic that one year ago from today, I was telling D that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him, only to break up realizing I didn't want to spend another minute with him..... only to have fate make sure that he never gets out of my life? Is he Mr. Big?

Mr. Big is exactly like D. A child stuck in a man's body with man responsibilities. A man-child who thinks that just because he has a man's body, he can do whatever he wants, have whatever he wants and use anyone he wants. He takes advantage of Carrie, even though he knows he can't make her happy. He knows that she loves him and uses that to make himself feel better when he's in the shitter. Who cares if Carrie gets hurt? She'll always forgive him and be there because she loves him. She loves him..... and all she ever gets is hurt.

Is this who I'm doomed to be like? A successful, independent, brilliant woman who never really gets her heart back?


I don't care if I can or can't. I'm just going to do it anyways.

Monday, February 15, 2010

My Journey through Adoption- III

I'm always asked about whether I considered abortion. I not only considered it, I was 2 minutes away from the surgery when I changed my mind.

This was one of the hardest moments of my pregnancy and a process that has changed my very core. Before reading this blog post, please remember to not make any judgments. Abortion is an extremely personal choice; one that I hope you never have to make. You can say what you want, but remember that you don't know what it's like. You don't know the girl's situation. What her life has been like. The path she has been on to reach this point. You don't know anything until you are in that position. Remember this and keep an open mind. This is just my story...

I couldn't decide between abortion and adoption. Keeping the baby was not an option for me at this point. I was not ready.

I had finally talked to my parents, D's parents, a counsellor and doctors. Everyone said the ultimate decision was mine alone and that only I would know what I could do. D did everything possible to make me believe that abortion was the only option. He came up with reasons like "You're too small to carry a baby healthily. Do you really want to go through this and miscarry?" He was desperate for this problem to go away.

My parents were heavily conflicted. My mom is very religious. Her brother is actually a Catholic priest and was staying with us for the summer. She was so scared. Her advice was to get an abortion. It was just the easiest path to go. She did not want to see me suffer, and she knew I would live a very hard life if I had the baby. My dad is atheist. He doesn't believe that a fetus is a human being. I could tell that all he wanted to do was take away this problem and let his little girl live a normal life. He was adamant that the best decision was to have an abortion. He told me to get it done, move to another city and start a new life.

D's parents are both Catholic. They did not want an abortion... but understood why I might do it.

To be honest, I can't remember much of what I was thinking during my internal debate. There were so many thoughts. My friends are all my age. All but two told me to get an abortion. All but two were willing to fight for my baby.

I've never believed in abortion. I believe that every fetus is a life... a soul. But, I was scared.

Everyone was telling me that I would not be able to give up the baby when the time came and to just save myself grief and abort the baby. Though it might seem that everyone was trying to persuade me towards abortion, the truth is that it was just their opinions. At the end of the day, everyone, even D, told me that it was up to me and that what I thought was the only thing that mattered.

I was too scared to change my life. I was scared of the responsibility. I was scared of what people would say.

I booked an abortion and 2 weeks later, found myself at the clinic. D and I were pretty much at war by that point. I didn't even tell him what day my appointment was. I was having a friend come with me but, I guess fate stepped in and made it impossible for her to be there last minute. I called D the day before and asked if he wanted to come. He said yes. He said he wanted to be there to make sure that I did it.

The day of felt like it was in constant fast-forward mode. The appointment was early afternoon. D picked me up; we drove in complete silence, found parking downtown and walked to the clinic. If someone asked me where the abortion clinic was, I would honestly answer that I have no idea. I just remember walking through a door that looked like any other door, into a puny elevator, to enter a dirty looking reception room. The receptionist was sitting behind what looked like a bullet proof window. She asked for my information inanimately. The place was quiet despite the fact that there were 5 people sitting there with D and I. What weirded me out the most was that these people were acting so normal. Like this was any doctor's appointment and that they weren't there to kill their babies. One blonde girl was by herself. There was a teenage, asian couple and an woman in her late twenties. They just sat there flipping through magazines. I would give anything to know what was running through their minds. Were they feeling as scared as I was?

When I was making the appointment, I had been told that "my partner" could be there the entire time except in the surgery room (which was only 5-10 minutes anyways). A nurse called my name to hand me off to a counsellor. D got up to follow and was told that he couldn't come in. The nurse told him to just go find somewhere to preoccupy himself for the next 2 hours. He was shocked. I didn't hear or see him leave.

I walked down a bright, cheerful hallway and was led into a small room. One of the walls was just lined with a million pamphlets. The counsellor was too nice and looked too young. She briefly explained what I was to expect the next 24 hours. I'd specifically stated in my paperwork that I did not want to discuss why I had chosen abortion. I remember us talking for a while but I all I could think of was whether she had ever sat in the same chair I was sitting in. When did she have an abortion?

She led me to the surgery ward. The floor was really cold. There were 3 black, plastic chairs facing 2 changing rooms. The hall smelled sterile and bleak. I stepped into the closest change room, stripped down and put on my bathrobe (that I was informed to bring). My ultrasound technician was waiting as soon as I stepped out. I can't remember her face, but I remember her voice. She sounded so kind; like someone I could just pour my heart out to. She joked with me as she did the ultrasound, obliging me when I asked to see the baby. I had had an ultrasound 3 days prior to the abortion and knew the baby was 10 weeks old. I noticed that she talked about the baby as if it was a baby and not just a bunch of cells.

She brought me back to the 3 plastic chairs and said I'd have to wait a while. I don't know how long I sat there. There were a stack of fashion magazines on top of the stereo in between the changerooms. The older girl that I had seen earlier was already sitting there reading. I followed. I was feeling good. I was feeling confident that this would all be over soon and I could go back to being Theresa... not "Mother Teresa". She got called to surgery. I kept reading. The teenage asian girl came around the corner from surgery. She was walking like she had a horse between her legs. She was swaying and smiling like an idiot. I could hear her bumping into the walls as she changed and giggling like a little school girl. I got so angry. I remember that her hand had a big bandaid on top where the IV was supposed to be inserted. She left after a while and I was suddenly by myself. I turned the page of my magazine and my eyes fell upon a picture of Alicia Keys and a white woman. The woman was Alicia Keys mom. It hit me that maybe Alicia Keys was adopted. And then I started to think that maybe my child could be a singer... or president. Who was I to take that away from the world? What if I was taking away someone's wife or husband, someone's best friend, someone who meant something to this world? The blonde entered the room and sat next to me. The room started to spin and I felt like I was in horror movie. I stood up and ran to the ultrasound technician's room. She was just stepping out her room. She looked at me with so much understanding and I just blurted out, "Is it okay if I change my mind? I need more time. I don't think I can do this right now".

"Yes!" She said emphatically.

She pulled back the sheet that was seperating the hall from the surgery ward. A nurse was standing right there. My ultrasound lady, who I was starting to see as my hero, told her I wasn't going to get the surgery right now.

"Oh," she said, "I was just about to go get her".

My hero walked be back to the changeroom and told me to change back into my clothes. She waited for me and took me back to my counsellor.

I was shaking by that point.

"Thank GOD!" was all that kept running through my head. "I saved the baby. My baby isn't going to die".

My counsellor was shocked that I had changed my mind. I guess I tricked her into believing that I was totally fine with the abortion. I was like every other girl that had walked through those doors.

"Sooooo..... what are you thinking right now?" she said extremely timidly. I think she was worried I was going to have a mental breakdown.

"I just think that this baby doesn't have to die. I think I should look into adoption more before deciding anything".

"Ummmmm.... I'm going to go get our senior counsellor. She knows way more about this stuff than I do".

She rushed out of the room. I grabbed my cell and texted D that I didn't do it and to come back for me. I could just see him reading this, throwing down his Danish and running back to the clinic as fast as he could from wherever he was. He wouldn't make it in time.

The senior counsellor walked into the room with so much authority. I loved her immediately... not like my mousy counsellor.

"Hi Theresa. Ok, I'm going to tell you straight up that adoption is not all it's made out to be. I'm warning you now... lawyers are dangerous people. They want your baby and that's the only way they make their income. That being said, I just adopted my daughter and can refer you to my fantastic lawyer. She's in Toronto but I completely trust her and I know that she'll recommend a good adoption lawyer. I wouldn't touch any of these city lawyers unless they came recommended by her. Now... what do you know about adoption?"

I think I talked to her for about 10 minutes but I felt so much more knowledgeable afterwards. You know when you learn some really good stuff, you actually FEEL better, more full and wordly? That what I felt.

D burst into the room panting just as she was concluding.

"Excellent. You must be the father. You need to take this girl home right away and let her rest. Have a nice day and call me if you need anything".

D's eyes were WIDE and he looked sooooo shocked.

"What?" he said.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

I wet myself on the first day of work.

You know when you're in one of your "moods" and it seems like the world is out to torture you by throwing mini eggs at you.

Ya. That's been me for the past 3 days.

I've been a bit moody.... cranky, some would say. Which, I can see, but I totally blame the world. It's not like it's helping me at all to ease my crankiness.

Let me begin with Sunday.

Sunday was supposed to be good. I was going to watch The Time Travellers Wife, something I've been looking forward to seeing since I read the book before Christmas. The movie was on my laptop, so I had to connect some cable from my computer to my TV screen. The cable's connection happened to be behind the TV, which required me to squeeze into that tiny space, bend 90 degrees and try and screw in the bolts. Slightly impossible.... I think soooooo!!

Nothing showed up on the screen.

My technology-illiterate mother had purchased some weird crystal light and had unplugged random stuff in order to make room for it. I blame her and her stupid light.

My best friend and sister just sat there on the couch trying to come up with excuses to not have to get up and help. And, of course, being extraordinarily pregnant and cranky, I started to see red, rage spots. I tried to control it because I could just picture my child's head blowing up in my uterus from the pressure of my rage. Didn't work. The sound of me jamming away at the TV remote got louder and louder. Finally, my best friend, fearing that a blow-up was fast approaching, rushed to the TV and tried to fix the issue. Two seconds later, I realized one of the settings wasn't on PC mode. Theresa.... zero

I got to watch my movie.... but it just wasn't the same. My crankiness just wouldn't leave me alone. "I'm going to screw you over again", it kept saying.

I was ready to go to bed at 9 but remembered I had to print up my funeral plan for class the next day. I had finished my plan a while ago to prevent from having to do any last minute rushes. Of course, it was then that my printer decided to not work. For some STUPID reason, 3 out of my 20 pages read:

"Page 3 out of 6 Page 4 out of 6 Page 5 out 6 Page 6 out of 20 Page 7 out of 20....."

After 30 mins of swearing and threats to my computer, my printer submitted to proper page referencing. But to get back at me, it would only allow me to print off one page at a time before jamming.

Printer.... one

Monday looms with little sleep.

My bag is packed. My snacks are packed. I'm ready for school.

I realize I forgot to print up my bibliography. Oh god.... I hope the printer doesn't remember last night.

She totally does. Refuses to print. Mucks up my page referencing AGAIN!!!!!!!

Printer... two. Theresa... zero

I've almost reached the end of my straw. To get back at the world, I decide to enjoy a leisurely, scrambled egg breakfast (which makes me late leaving the house).

World.... three. Theresa.... one and a half

Before running out of the house, I went to my room to make sure I didn't leave anything behind (forgetfulness is one of the most common ailments of pregnancy). I looked at my desk and saw my credit card.

Do I need my credit card today?

No Theresa, you're trying not to spend any money.

Alrighty, then! No credit card! Take that evil, money grabbing world! I have conquered you today!!!!

I pull into the parking lot, walk to the pay meter and remember that I always pay with my credit card. I have enough change for 20 mins of my 3 hour class.

Meter.... one. Theresa... minus one

I run to class. I reach my class just in time. I sigh with relief. I reach into my bag to get my tasty snacks I had preciously prepared the night before.


I put the snacks in the wrong bag.

World... ten points. Theresa.... minus thirty.

I spent the evening watching Sex and the City season 3 to numb my cranky monster but just ended up getting mad at Big.

Tuesday approaches. My first official day at work.

First on the list... my weekly doctor's appointment. My doctor likes to keep her patients waiting at least half an hour before seeing us. I don't know why. I don't see a problem with just scheduling us half an hour later and meeting us when we actually come in. I wait 45 mins. I'm the last patient in before lunch. I'm supposed to get some swabbing done so I sit in the room with only a sheet covering my lower half. My doctor forgets me. Ya. I sat there, straining to hear through the walls what my doctor was saying. I start to picture her and the nurses sitting down to eat sandwiches.

I was supposed to be at work in 4 mins.

Once I heard the word lunch (or sandwich, I forget), I jumped off the table and threw open the door. The wind blew up my sheet scaring my doctor.

I arrive at work 30 mins late with my forehead vein slightly pulsating. The car parked next to my spot left me 4 inches to crawl out. My belly got stuck. I had to re-park my car. I walked to the other side to lift my 35 lbs bag. My bag + belly couldn't fit. I had to engage my non-existent ab muscles to hold the bag over my head and wiggle out of the parking spot. I received a mighty kick in the bladder for that movement. I lost a bit of bladder control.

My first day at work and I wet myself.

World.... winner. Theresa.... the crowning of shit-tacular.

Friday, February 5, 2010

Underwear Lover

I have a slight obsession with lingerie..... especially with UNDERWEAR.


Just thought I'd share some hot lingerie I saw today.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

The truth of child custody

I have "pregnant squat".

Basically, I have to sit with my legs fairly far apart in order to make room for my belly.

When I catch myself sitting like this, especially in skirts, I quickly pull my legs together only to let them fall apart again when my legs get tired of holding up a 30 lb sac of 'baby'.

The things you never thought of.

So, I talked with one of me and D's old friend today, who happens to be a family lawyer. It went really well and was super informative. He corrected a lot of the things I had heard.

I will now share my information so that no one else ends up also mistaken with custody arrangements terminology.

First things first, I had cordial talk with D over custody and child support. He was very adamant about joint custody. I said I needed convincing before I was willing to give him any rights. I don't need to have him walk out of our lives again 4 years down the road.

Everyone says that I shouldn't give him joint custody. I painted a horrendous picture in my mind involving joint custody and was prepared to fight against it.

So, I did some research. Turns out joint custody means nothing more than shared decision-making. Joint custody does not mean that we have to split time with the baby 50/50. I could easily have the baby live with me fulltime and D can visit anytime he wants. Joint custody only says that all decisions concerning the baby must be made by both parents. So, report cards, medical decisions, parent/teacher interviews must involve both parents. To me, that sounds completely reasonable.

I asked my friend about joint custody and child support. Does joint custody mean he doesn't have to pay anything?

Answer: No.

If in the case of shared custody, which means that time with the baby is split 50/50, then child custody might be removed because both parents are equally paying for the needs of the baby. Depending on the joint custody arrangements, D or I could end up paying child support depending on who was taking care of the baby more. If it happens that D has no job, takes care of the baby every other week, I would have to pay child support so that he could still adequately take care of the baby.

It makes sense.

I asked my friend about switching from sole custody to joint custody once D proved himself responsible enough to care for the baby.

His answer completely changed my opinion on sole custody. The moment the baby is born, joint custody comes into effect by default. To gain sole custody requires court orders. Unless D is violent, has a drinking or drug problem, or any of the other extremes which would endanger the child, sole custody is hard to fight for. The courts don't give a crap about the mother or the father. They only care about what is in the best interests of the baby. If the mother wants sole custody just because she resents the father for being an asshole, the court won't consider that a good enough position. And they are completely right.

This is how my friend put it, "Once someone is taken to court... they're usually not happy about it. It usually builds a lot of resentment in both parties. Who knows how long the resent is going to stay. You are going to spend a minimum of 18 years dealing with child support payments and visitations. Unless you think that giving rights to the other party is a life and death situation, then what not try to do everything possible to make things work because resorting to the courts?"

D may be an asshole, but he would never do anything malicious to hurt the baby. He would never go out of his way to destroy the baby's life just because he has legal right to. I know that at the end of the day, D wants to be just a good a parent as anyone else. He may make millions of mistakes and is often really selfish, he would never do something to the point of hurting the baby. He's not THAT horrible.

At the end of the day, the baby's best interests are most important. I think this is something a lot of people forget... or they become blind to it from all the hate and anger. I am determined to keep a clear mind. If this baby and D end up falling in love with each other, I'm not going to take that away just because I resent some of the decisions he made in the past.

If you expect someone to be horrible, they will mostly likely become just that.

If I constantly expect that D is going to be a walk away... he just might get tired of trying to fruitlessly prove himself and give up. I gave up on him a long time ago, what's to say he wouldn't do the same.

My hope is that both D and I are able to become really self-sufficient and money no longer becomes a worry. Once I can support the baby without any worries, I really don't want to have to be troubled about getting child support payments.

Figuring out this whole child custody thing definitely opened my eyes to the dangers of greed and irrationalism.

I think that I often demanded too much of D. I sometimes let myself fall back into the habit where I think he should support me just like back in the days. But those days have changed and we can only move forward... put the past behind and hope for a better future.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

My Journery through Adoption: II

My first trimester is pretty much a blur. I can't remember much. I don't know if it's because I repressed the memories or because it was such an emotional roller coaster that all the memories have blurred into one.

The next milestone I distinctively remember after finding out about the pregnancy was telling D.

After the break up, we were still fooling around and hanging out but it had become a malicious game. Who could prove that they had moved on first without pushing away the other. He'd hurt me. I'd hurt him back. It was stupid.

The week of the pregnancy discovery, I was mad at D. He had done something really asshole-ish to me (I can't even remember now), and I had decided I was done with him and hadn't contacted him in over a week..... which was quite a feat since we were used to talking to each other every other day for 2.5 years.

I mulled over how I was going to tell him for 2 days. I was so scared. I had no idea what to expect, how he was going to react, what stupid thing he would say. I was a mess.

I remember calling him in the evening and asking him to come over to talk. He was hanging out at his friend's house and said he could be there in an hour. I have no idea how I passed the time.
The bell rang. I opened the door and there he was, the father of my baby. He had a big smile on his face. Little did he know his life was going to be changed forever.

It was dark outside, the neighborhood was completely silent, you could hear crickets chirping through the windows and we sat on my long sofa with one dim light on. The atmosphere was so peaceful ironically. Just another beautiful summer night.

I remember that we started arguing over something. I remember declaring that I didn't love him anymore. I remember his silence.

I started to cry.

"D. I'm pregnant".

He pulled me into his lap and hugged me as I cried.

Eventually, I stopped. I asked him what he was thinking. Was he surprised?

I'll never forget how he said his next words. He said it so quietly... so astonished.

"Actually. I'm more surprised that you don't love me anymore".


"I'm going to be a daddy?"

I laughed and hugged him. This was the D I had fallen in love with. Not the hard, selfish monster I had been arguing with for the last month.

He stayed with my the next two nights and I let myself think that maybe it was going to work out after all.

The monster returned soon after, crushing any hope I had.