A Day of Reflection

Today has been a rough day. My morale has been down. I woke up with a sore throat and a migraine headache and pretty much gave up on my day. It was a bright and sunny day too. I’m sorry to have missed it, but I think I needed a day to relax and unwind. We all need those days, especially the pregnant and single.

Towards the end of the day I felt better and I did get out and go for a walk with my dog. It’s funny, maybe other women who are in my situation would have moments where they think, ‘I wish I had my boyfriend/husband to go for a walk with me.’ I never think that because a walk for J is like pulling out his teeth, like many things are for J which make me happy. People tell me that one day I will meet a man who appreciates going for walks with me, my dog and my baby on a sunny day as much as a do. Not that I’m even thinking of dating anytime soon, but it is a nice thought.

I’ve been reflecting over my pregnancy so far and I’m grateful my first trimester is over, not only because of the nausea, but because of all the destruction J caused weekend after weekend. During the first trimester I felt like I was on 16 and Pregnant, and nothing aggravates me more than that show, except Jersey shore. J used to watch those shows and actually enjoyed them. Those shows are banned from my house. It’s bad for the brain.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt such a bad a feeling as I did during that first trimester. J would yell at me and I would cry, clutching my tiny tummy, thinking about all of its precious organs developing. There were times when he would do something mean or stupid and I would become so enraged at him. I would be hyperventilating in the fetal position holding my belly, trying to calm down so my baby wouldn’t feel what I felt. I cannot even describe how painful that feeling was. I knew my emotions were in my control, but he would hurt me so bad and I would try so hard not to let him, but I couldn’t always win. I would know that my blood pressure was up; I could feel the knots in my stomach as I sobbed from the depths of my being. I swore to myself I would never let my baby hear or see any of this. And I knew I had to stop putting up with it, because I would not let J ruin this life. I’m 17 weeks and the baby’s starting to hear now. Counselling is the only way we can start communicating. I’m feeling more hopeful about that now. I feel grateful for the opportunity. Thank-you, J’s Mom.

This second trimester has been lovely, (with the exception of cruel text messages and hearing rumours of what J was putting up his nose). I had no drama to deal with, I’ve been eating well, I’m cooking up a storm and surrounding myself with positive people. Even now, I just closed my eyes and take a big sigh of relief. Quietness and calm surround me. No drama. No MTV. No tears. Only good food and good people. Forever.

Besides the bad morale day today, things are looking up. I get to quit my boring editing job soon and I’m going to start working at a bookstore. It’s always been a little dream of mine. Have you ever seen the movie You’ve Got Mail with Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks? If you haven’t, you should. Ever since I’ve watched that movie, I’ve wanted to work at a bookstore. Bookstores give me a warm, cozy feeling. There’s nothing like the smell of a new book. Mmmm… books.

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Couples Counselling for One

J has a really great mom. So great that she has offered to pay for couples counselling. You see, couple’s counselling is the only way we can get J to seek help, possibly opening up his mind to individual counselling. Our appointment’s next Thursday and I’m dreading it. The thought of seeing him causes my blood-pressure to rise and my blood to boil. The fact that I have to sit down for an hour and a half and explain myself again makes me want to vomit.

As usual, I’m trying to look at the positive:

1. Free counselling

2. I’ve always been fascinated with this profession. What an excellent opportunity!

3. Maybe a miracle will happen and through couples therapy and he will begin counselling sessions by himself so he can conquer his own demons

4. J could learn how to act like an adult and be a nice, helpful Baby’s Daddy/ex-boyfriend rather than an abusive, unreliable one

5. Maybe he’ll own up to his problems and take responsibility for his actions

6. I could learn how to not care about his manipulations anymore

7. We could end this nicely

8. Maybe, just maybe, he will mature, get help, leave his youth behind him, quit drinking and boozing, (which means giving up the majority of his friends) and then he could be a wonderful dad—- and even maybe, a good boyfriend.

Wow, that’s a whole lot of positive thinking! I admit it; I’m a realist, I think if outcome G. was possible it probably would have happened by now…

Can couple’s counselling work for J and I? Even when the whole issue really is just J? Do I have the energy to let everything go and start fresh yet again for him to just destroy it when it counts? No, I don’t. Does he still have the energy to lie to himself and to me about who he is? God, I hope not.

I swore I would give this my all, as I always have. I would be lying if a part of me wasn’t still praying a miracle would happen. Not because I’m a victim of this man-boy, but because I don’t want to share my child with someone who has put me through hell.

I don’t think I have the energy to forgive him anymore for it to start-up all over again. I want off this ride. This is the last effort I’m putting towards this relationship and if it wasn’t for my baby I wouldn’t even be making it. It makes me sick that I still go above and beyond for him when he can’t even give up partying for his future. How could he do this?

This is going to take a lot of effort on my part, and I’m exhausted from the last hundred times. Must be strong.

Postively Positive???

We will call him ‘J.’

After seeing those two pink lines on the pregnancy test, I was sure it had to be a false positive. I couldn’t be pregnant. Out of the two-and-a-half-years J and I had been dating, we had unprotected sex once. On our trip to Seattle the week before  J joked that I was pregnant, I replied, ‘It doesn’t happen like that- people spend years trying to get pregnant!’

To put my mind at ease I insisted we grab another test. We grabbed a cheap no-name test and it came back inconclusive. So, we went and bought another cheap one and again, Inconclusive. (First Life Lesson of being pregnant: Don’t cheap out on pregnancy tests; they’re not all the same.)

We could not afford anymore tests, so we went to the local clinic. J and I waited in our own states of anxiety, me,  twirling my hair and him rapidly shaking his leg impatiently.  “So, it’s positive,” the young doctor said, “You are pregnant.”

“YES!!” J said, clenching his fist in the air as if the Ducks scored a goal.

I didn’t bother asking about my options. J promised we’d “do it together… That he was different…. This was it…. What he’d always wanted.” I allowed myself to trust him again. To let everything go one more time. Things had to be different now; we’re having a baby after all.