Pregnant. Single. Depressed.
I guess these were the three words to describe me when I first found out I was pregnant. Not exactly what that portray in movies or TV shows or even that familiar Facebook status from your high school buddies. Sure, I was excited. Being a mom before I turned 30 was definitely a life goal I had wanted to achieve but not under these "circumstances."
My baby's father was my coworker. And we got along really well. I guess too well because the next thing you know we're going on weekend trips to the beach and, oh, conceiving a kid. Did I think he'd be my husband? Maybe once or twice -- but those times I had well over my limit of shots of Fireball at the local dive bar a block from my apartment. So no, I didn't foresee him being the person I'd have my fairy tale happily ever after with. When I broke the news to him that we were expecting we really did try to play happy couple, happy family. It lasted about a week until we realized it just wasn't happening.
Cue the depression. Cue realizing it was "too late" to turn back with the decision we had made to keep a kid. I kept reminding myself that I wasn't going to be the first single mom in the world but when every one of your friends is in perfect relationships and you halt your life to grow a kid in your uterus, shit just kind of sucks. I was starting a new job, having to move back home and crying every night. It wasn't fun. It was the opposite of the Pinterest baby board I spent months crafting prior to ever even having a little one squirming about inside. But I knew that my attitude had to change. Fast. I had to put my big girl panties on. Dude, you are going to be a freaking mom. Get your shit together now. So I did.
Next thing you know I'm seeing a therapist and learning what the hell FTM and DD and SO stand for so I could keep up on baby forums. I was scheduling appointments to get the Dracula-blood-sucking wench at Quest Diagnostics to stick my arm and take out as much blood as humanly possible. I'm doing research about being a first time mom, downloading every app under the sun (like seriously, do I need 5 apps right now to tell me my baby is the size of an Eggplant this week? Answer, no but I do anyway) and starting to worry about things like maternity leave, daycare, and what diaper brand I wanted my kid to poop in to.
Six months in I can tell you this has been hard and guess what? I know it's only going to be harder. My daughter will cry and I won't know why. She will have a "blowout" diaper that will make me gag. I won't shower for a week and see nothing wrong with it while on my maternity leave. And I'll struggle to understand how my single-mom salary is "too much" to get any sort of government funding. But I'm going to and will do it and I will get through it and it will be worth it. No matter how much you can try and prepare for a kid, no matter how happy the relationship, sometimes things just don't go "by the books."
I could have let those three words define the remainder of my pregnancy and I could have bashed my baby's father (though he actually is incredibly supportive) but instead I'm not going to let any sort of words define me or my future or how much I love my daughter.
I'm going to get through this and be a stronger person. I hope you will enjoy following along in my journey as I look forward to sharing it with you all.
Positive. Pregnant & Happily Yours,
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