My Journey Through Adoption: Part 4

I guess I should continue my story.

After I came home from my failed abortion appointment, my parents shook their head and said, "Ok, let's get you a government job to raise the baby". ha ha. My parents (and I think all asian parents) believe that working for the government will end all suffering.

When I told my parents NO, I was going to give up the baby for adoption, they didn't believe me but said to do whatever I thought was best for me. So, I started the process. I had previously met with a counselor at Planned Parenthood who gave me the names of the only 2 private adoption lawyers in Ottawa.
Note: My experience at Planned Parenthood was a huge disappointment but maybe that's just me. Probably best to try every resource possible if you find yourself young, single and pregnant.

I called up the lawyer, let's just call her Andrea. Andrea was beyond reassuring. She picked up her cell phone as she was backing up her car into the garage. Needless to say, not the best first impression but she called me right back as soon as she got in the house. I remember the experience to be very prompt. She said what needed to be said, she arranged what needed to be arranged and left me feeling assured surprisingly.

We met. We talked. Things were going well.

I stopped talking to D for my entire 2nd trimester. I was done with his foolishness. Andrea told me that it was best to keep him out of the process. From her experience, the men tended to get in the way and make things harder than they needed to be. What if he didn't like the family I chose? What if he his criteria differed signifcantly from mine? What if he didn't sign the adoption papers to give up the baby?

I was terrified of D. I didn't know how far he would go, I still don't.

I dropped him, cold turkey. He texted once the entire time. I worked with him a few times at the pool but never gave him a second glance. My friends told me he would watch me like a puppy, craving any bit of attention. I laughed and felt empowered.

School came and went. December approached and I still hadn't seen any family profiles. I was starting to panic. The baby was due in 3 months and I had no family. What kind of mother would I be if I just handed off my baby to someone I had known for less than 3 months?

I wanted an open adoption. I wanted to be in my baby's life from beginning till end. I wanted visits, I wanted photos, I wanted her to know me. I knew the only way I could get this was if I had a good relationship with the adoptive parents, but I needed time to build that. Time was definitely running out.

I kept subtly pushing Andrea to get me profiles. I had to be careful because she was the one selecting profiles for me. Here's what scared me the most. There were only 2 adoption lawyers in Ottawa. Each has their own separate list of parent potentials. Those lists contained 30-70 people. If I exhausted Andrea's list, I would have to run to the next lawyer and Andrea would lose her money.

The abortion counselor had warned me. At the end of the day, the only way the lawyers get paid is if they get a baby.

Andrea was having hard times in her private life too. I understood and pitied her, but my baby's life was in her hands and she was not doing enough. As a birth mother, I'm allotted one counselor to help me get through the process. I met her mid-January. By then, all I could think of was, "I'm not going to find parents. How am I going to raise this baby?"

I had started creating back up plans. I had started planning my new life.

Day 0: The birthing story (but not the gross part)

Rosie- 4 days old

My goal of the month was to start blogging again but for some reason, I could never build the effort. There were so much more fascinating stuff to learn and read about on the internet. I guess I've been in more of the learning mindset than talking mindset.

So, I had my beautiful baby. Isn't she precious? Can't believe she decided to come out the day after my last post.

I was lying in bed at 1 am when I got a sudden backache. My first thought was, 'god dammit, what did I do to hurt my back? I bet it's the mattress. Stupid baby forcing me to lie sleep on my side'. Five minutes later, another shot of backache. When the third one hit, it suddenly occurred to me that the pain was coming in intervals.... intervals = contractions.

Holy shit.

I jumped out of bed, grabbed my "What to Expect When You're Expecting", and started scanning the "Symptoms of Labor" section. First on the list: lower backache. Gahhhh.

Flip the page to "Symptoms of Fake Labor". Backache.

Great. So I spent the next 3 hours timing the frequency of my contractions. They were all over the place; some coming every 2 minutes, some with breaks of 30. After 3 am, I was so cranky that I decided I was too tired to go into labor and it would just have to wait. So I went to sleep. I have no idea how I did it.

I woke up to a huge shot of pain at 7 and thought, "Okkkaayyy. Maybe I should call the hospital just in case. Not quite sure whether I'm supposed to let myself go into actual labour if I'm due for a c-section". So I call the hospital. The nurse said that if I was able to fall asleep through my contractions, I had plenty of time left. She said to wait it out and try calling my doctor. Lucky for me, my OB/GYN refused to take phone calls before 9 am. So I took another nap figuring I would need the energy later.

When I did get a hold of my doctor she told me to come in immediately.

"Good news of bad news first?" she asked in her thick European accent.

"I don't care".

"I'll let you choose".

"Fine. Bad news".

"You're having a baby".

"Yes.... yes, I'm aware of that".

"Today", she says.

"Lovely".

By then, the contractions were pretty much making me debate whether to throw myself in front of a car and see what hurt more.

"Good news is I think I feel a head".

She dives back in and says, "Yes. Yes! I think it's a head".

She orders me to go get an ultrasound at the hospital. Six hours later, in which I think I died (not literally but I wish I had) a slimy baby gets thrown into my arms. It was total karma. I didn't bother taking any birthing classes because I figured I was having the c-section, why spend the money! And then I made fun of two women I could hear screaming in the halls because they chose not to get an epidural. (Advice of year: get the epidural). Karma got me back by giving a stuck baby. Not fun.

Rosie, my daughter's name after 4 days of dragging my feet, is a comedian. She keeps everyone in the family entertained with her weird noises, massive lungs (she came out 6 lbs and is now 9 lbs), and crossed-eyes when she tries to focus on stuff.
Oh, and she lost all her front hair and now has a massive receding hairline.

Surprisingly, I'm loving being her mom. Not much sleep, slightly deaf in one ear and always smelling like spit up, but actually really happy.

Against all odds, despite everything that has been thrown my way, and the unconventionality of my situation, I've managed to pull through with a genuine smile on my face and now a little girl who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. If I can do it, anyone can.

Baby in 3 days

Baby is due in 3 days.
Here is what is running through my mind:

• Am I going to forget my bathrobe?
• I wonder if the hospital has internet connection?
• Which books are TOO big to bring? How many books should I realistically bring?
• Why can't I sleep?

Notice how I'm not thinking about the baby. Is that normal? Shouldn't I be freaking out about becoming a mother in 3 days? Maybe, I've just gotten so used to the idea that it doesn't seem that "new" anymore. Or maybe I'm in complete denial of the situation.

I packed my hospital bag. The baby's stuff takes us more space in my bag... which will change once I get my furry, red robe in there. I have to pack 2 sleepers, 1 sweater, socks, mitts, hat, blanket and undershirts. She's wrapped in a blanket the entire time! Why would I risk losing one of my precious socks if she's always in a blanket!?

That's the extent to what I'm thinking about the baby... except the occasional yell at her to go to sleep so that I may also go to sleep.

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.

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.

TV...one. 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 Theresa...zero

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.

Empty.

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.

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.

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".

Silence.

"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.

My Journey through Adoption: Part I

When I first released my blog out into the worldwide web, I did it because I wanted to share my story with others who might be or who will one day be in my position. So... here it goes.

I remember the day, I found out I was pregnant. My period was 2 weeks late, but I didn't really notice because my period was always a bit weird. I was feeling more tired than usual, but it was because I had been partying and drinking every night. The idea that I might be pregnant popped into my head randomly during the middle of my lifeguarding shift. My close friend, and supervisor at the time, was walking by me, gave my hand a squeeze because she was excited about the party I was hosting that night. Without even thinking, I let my mind slip and say, "I think I might be pregnant". She was shocked, obviously. I quickly recovered and brushed the idea off as being stupid. I didn't think of it afterwards.

After my shift, I stopped by the grocery store close to my house to grab some dinner. I also grabbed a pregnancy test. I think somewhere deep down knew; knew the entire time that I was pregnant. I walked into my empty house. My family was gone on vacation and I was by myself for ten days. I calmly put the groceries away, climbed up the stairs and walked into my parent's bathroom. I unwrapped the kit, read the instructions and, still very calmly, peed on the stick. I sat on the edge of the bathtub waiting with no thoughts or voices in my head. Just silence.

The pregnancy test showed positive within 10 seconds. I thought it was a mistake because the test was supposed to take at least 2 minutes before showing any results. So I waited the full 2 minutes staring at the stick, simply waiting for it to show negative.... but I knew.

I started to cry. I sat there on the bathroom floor, hugging my knees and just cried my heart out. I cried because I was lonely. I cried for the boyfriend I had just lost. I cried for my baby. But I mostly cried, because I saw my beautifully planned life fall apart in seconds. I think I cried for about 10 minutes. I just remember feeling lightning bolts of pain shooting back and forth through my heart.

I eventually reached my cell phone, dialled up my supervisor and told her to go buy me another test. Being asian, my second thought was how I should have bought the kit with two tests. It would have been cheaper. I filled up my water bottle and sat on my front porch to wait for my friend. It seemed like forever. I don't remember what was running through my mind at the time.

After my friend arrived, time started flying. The test showed positive once again.... within 10 seconds once again. My friend hugged me as the few remaining tears I had left rolled down my face. She packed me into the car and drove me to the nearby walk-in clinic. The secretary was I girl I went to school with. We talked cheerfully, with me acting like nothing was wrong. We were told to come back in an hour and the doctor would be ready for us. My friend walked me to Shoppers Drug Mart and bought me some prenatal vitamins. I didn't understand anything. What do you mean I have to take multi-vitamin pills everyday for the whole pregnancy? Why do they cost so much? Don't they come in bulk?

When we came back to the clinic, we were quickly put into a room. The doctor who entered my room was a joke sent from God. He was young, indian and very nervous. I told him I thought I was pregnant which made his nervousness skyrocket. He kept stumbling over every word. I could hear him praying that he wouldn't say the wrong thing to the young pregnant girl in his office. He got me to do another pregnancy test. All I could think of as I was peeing was how I shouldn't have even bothered with the other two pregnancy tests seeing how the clinic gave unlimited, free tests. I just wasted $50.

My pregnancy was officially declared in these words, "Well..... the test confirms..... that you are.... you know.... what you thought.... you were".

I could barely hear him over the jangling of the change in his pocket. He looked like he was going to cry. I felt so bad so I cracked some jokes to lighten the mood. It made the jangling change even louder.

My friend and I left the clinic laughing, with only minutes to spare before the pool staff was due at my house. Sure enough, two of them were waiting by my door when I got home.

I got changed, plastered a fake smile on my face and went to make drinks. Everyone arrived punctually, which is something unheard of in our circles. I laughed and had a good time despite my anger at not being allowed to drink anything, but, the whole time, I felt like a ghost hovering over the scene. After some drinking games, we all piled into me and my friend's car and drove to a nearby bar where all the other pools were gathering.

I got out of the car, and the first person I see turn the corner is D. "Whatever," I thought. I spent the night with one eye on D and the other eye laughing with my friends. I was determined to not ruin the night. He looked at me once. An hour later, I saw him get into his car with a strange blonde, a few pool friends and drive off.

Eventually, we all got bored and returned to my house for a massive sleepover-fest. I was exhausted and the only one not drunk. I quickly put on my pjs and crawled into bed. A few of the staff climbed in too and we stayed up for a good 2 hours just gossiping and joking around. It was actually really fun, and made me forget my pregnancy for a bit. I fell asleep with the sound of all my friends having a blast in my house.

I woke up the next morning and quickly took my prenatal vitamins. My trip down motherhood had started.

The "D" encounter

So, I told D I was keeping the baby (through text... isn't that just lovely). His textual response was "Ok. That's fine".
After a shrug of my shoulders, I didn't bother to think about him. (Isn't our relationship healthy?)

I happened to run into him at work 5 days later. I was at the library and decided to stop by the pool to visit my friend. D saw me through the pool window and commanded one of the lifeguards to tell me to come talk to him.

I'm fat and over-heating as it is, why the hell would I go stand on a 100 degree pool deck?

So, I stayed in the office and waited for him to go on break (which was in 15 mins anyways). He came in, glared at me and stormed out into the sidehall. I rolled my eyes at my nearest co-worker and followed him.

He whipped around and loudly stated, "So. Is this IT? Are you finally done changing your mind?" I love how HE said it; as if I actually enjoyed struggling with this decision and did it for fun.

We ended up arguing in circles because he DEMANDED joint custody. I flatly stated that until this point, I had never seen him act like a parent and needed him to prove this to me before I felt comfortable giving him my baby. He has never been there, knows absolutely nothing about the baby (besides her sex) and actually thinks he's entitled to be her father because he has to pay child support.

My question was, "If I hadn't asked for child support. Would you even be standing here?"

No answer.

He got so riled up and couldn't articulate anything. I think that he thinks I'm wanting full custody as a way to punish him for being such an ass. Apparently, the only way I can prove to him that this isn't true is by giving him joint custody. I wish you could see the look on my face as a write this. It's a face of complete disgust. Talking to him is like talking to a wall.

We are scheduled to sit actually sit down and talk without any disruption (or at least in an environment where we can yell at the top of our lungs and not get reproachful looks) on Monday night. After that, if things don't get worked out, lawyers are going to be brought in.

I can't believe my life is coming to this. I feel like this life isn't mine, and I'm just an outsider watching. I'm 22 and am preparing for a custody battle. Really? REALLY? How did it end up like this. Whatever. I'm going to win anyways.

Snow

The snow is falling. Really big, fat snowflakes.
I would like nothing more than to put on my winter jacket and go make snow angels in the backyard.
But then I remember I don't like to move anymore. Plus, I'm not allowed to lie down on my back.
FML.

A Monday diary

I woke up at 11:52 am today. Correction, I woke up at 7:48 am and didn't crawl out of bed until 11:52. I debated whether or not to spend another lethargic day bathing in nothingness. Luckily, my sister forced me into the "not".

I drove her and myself to the library to get a book titled "If You Want to Write" by Brenda Ueland. It was highly recommended on this new blog I love (Presentation Zen). Plus, I've been wanting to improve my writing.

Sadly, as what usually happens in libraries, the book (though declared as 'Checked in') could not be found in its rightful place on the bookshelf. Over my fat, heavy body was I going to trudge around and try to find it. So I picked up another book that had a cover I connected with. "PEN ON FIRE".

I've read the opening quotation so far and have already written 10 blog rough-drafts, this journal and a bunch of other creative thoughts. I also found 2 new amazing blogs. This book is amazing. Ha Ha Ha.

Back to my day... I drove around the neighbourhood running little errands with Chi Mai revolving around:

a) exchanging my X-mas presents
b) letting Chi Mai window shop.

I did successfully buy some fantastic post-it notes ON SALE at Staplex and will buy an adorable water bottle at Chapters when the place is a little less crowded.

I got home around 3 hours later and relaxed for a bit before heading out to Milestones with the SPLX girls. It was a fun night. Good food, lots of food, great service (the manager herself guarenteed me that I wouldn't die from my allergies while I was here). I've never had that before! I love those girls so much. We each have our distinct personaities and are pretty different from each other but for some reason, we're really great friends. With most of my friends, our relationships and chillfests are just splurges of the moment. But with these girls, we go out of our way to make time for each other... even if only once every 3 months.

And now, here I am... tired but too wired with creative diarrhea. Plus, the wind is blowing at like, 60 km/h makiing my house super creaky.

PS. Baby is getting sooooo heavy. My back is killing me.

temptations

Three things that I think about constantly while pregnant:
Drinking alcohol
Tattoos
Getting rocking abs

ANNNDDD!! I just found out that Kiera Knightley has been dating Rupert Friend for over 2 years!!! I fell in LOVE with Rupert in Pride and Prejudice. sooooo dreamy.

morning!

Well, my plan to wake up early and study went down the drain. I was supposed to be up at 9 and get a head start in my readings.... woke up at 11.
HOWEVER! to make up for my laziness, I created a wonderful platter of fruit to feed myself and mini-me. There was originally more fruit on the plate, I just ate it before I could take the picture. I wish strawberries were in season. I LOOOVVEE strawberries. And cherries. And jack fruit. mmmmmmm.... jack fruit :)

It's another rainy day

It's another rainy day.

Is it weird that I enjoy rainy days. It makes me feel comforted... like Mother Nature understands my moods.
I'm sitting at my desk studying for my final exam this Monday. I still have to finishing editing a paper and finishing another paper.
I borrowed the "Time Travelers Wife" from the library and only have a week to read. I haven't started it yet.
I rented a Pilates video to try out at home on my new, pink yoga mat.
My hair is getting so long that it's desperately begging to be cut.
Yet, all I seem to want to do is crawl into bed and sleep away this life. I want to wake up 10 years from now and be so grateful that this part of my life is over.

I'm listening to piano solos on the radio, drinking orange juice and pretending its a nice cup of tea. I'm chewing gum because it takes my mind off the nausea I keep feeling.
The baby feels like a fish swimming inside of me.

Halloween is tomorrow and I don't really want to go out. I've been invited to a big party but partying with my friends just doesn't feel the same without Dan. Plus, I can't drink.
It feels more like Christmas. I'm excited for Christmas. I'm hoping to get started on a bunch of self-projects. I also find the snow brings a sense of quiet and peace to me.
I'm not sure what I'm going to do during my last trimester. I can't work at the pool because I'm considered more of a hazard than a lifeguard. I've never NOT worked before. What am I going to do?

It's going to be alright

I look backed at my previous blogs today. Haha... even though I left so many details out of the blogs, it still brings me some comfort to know that I can look back and remember exactly what was going on the day I wrote that post.
I was going to erase all the posts and start afresh, but after reading the blogs, I thought to myself that life is built upon a past, just like this blog will be. Only then will it be a true reflection of my life.

I am still pregnant. Coming close to 5 months now. I have decided on adoption. There are many problems between the father and myself... but unfortunately/fortunately, he's still in the picture.... To a certain extent. I told him that I was going to be THE parent to this baby. That I would make all decisions because I had just had enough of his constant absence, his selfishness and his uncaring-ness. It is a privilege for him to be involved in whatever time I have left with my baby. A privilege that if he wasted for even a second, would be taken away.
I refuse to let him hurt me anymore. I refuse to let him pull me off my path. I refuse to be walked over.

I'm still not sure what I want this blog to be. Why should it exist?
I feel like the blog is more like a letter. A letter to my baby? A letter to my family and friends? A letter to the father? A letter to a person who might think that there is not light left in the world? I don't know.
All I know is that no matter what happens in my life, it will not be forgotten. Even if it's just documented on the internet.

I was telling my cousin today that I had finally reached that stage in "grief" where you know that despite all the pain and hurt, you're going to come out alright. Though my situation is far from being over (I'm aware there are still many more tears to come), I know that in the end, it will all have been for something and that I will come out just fine.