When I think of "me" I think Mohawk, cool colored hair, Tattoos, pipe tobacco, corsets, archery, a hot bod, overall badassery. That's how I see "me", I'm so fucking cool... when I'm allowed to be... It took me a long time to figure "me" out, as I'm sure it does for everyone. We're all told expectations, and aspirations from other people, and over the years we have to rip ourselves out of those restraints, peel back the layers of conditioning, and free ourselves to who we really are. Once you get to this point, never fucking let go of that beautiful human being. He/she will be with you in all the worst times, this person guides you to happiness and fulfillment. This person, is your lifeline in this fucked up merry-go-round called life.
I want everyone reading this to love the person they are as much as I love, let's call her Becks. Becks is who I am when I feel like my life is where I want it to be. When I'm doing what I want to be doing. Becks is confident, happy, calm. Becks doesn't worry about the future, she lives in the now. She has a very successful career. She walks confidently in life, knowing that her choices will not harm others, and will bring her joy, and a sense of fulfillment. Becks is my hero.
I am not Becks... I was Becks, briefly, before I had my son, I was Becks for the two months I wasn't breastfeeding, or pregnant. Then, one stupid night, and I lost her again. I get another two fucking years of being whoever the hell this is... Mom, I guess. Notice how Becks isn't defined by kids, she may or may not have kids, but they are not part of her identity. Mom is different. She is nothing but diaper changes, breastfeeding, "I can't go out because I don't have a babysitter", bullshit. Mom is defined by kids, without them she doesn't exist, her sole purpose in life is caregiver. What does she do outside of that? Not a damned thing. Plenty of women find their true self in Mom, and that's great, you love the shit outta the bitch, but me? I hate her. She doesn't have time, energy, or motivation enough to take care of herself. Someone else always needs her, her whole existence is caring for someone else's needs. She could be two steps from suck starting a shotgun and no one would notice, not even her, because there are diapers to change, kicks to count, nursing to keep track of, tummy time to do, stories to read, snacks to get. She's too busy for her own feelings, her own dreams, her own aspirations, maybe later? I was Mom for two years. Two Hellish years of pregnancy, and breastfeeding. Two years of waking up in the middle of the night "Is Rayne okay?!"
I want to be Becks, but Mom is calling, and saying "time to turn off those silly dreams and emotions, we've got a blessing to make" Becks is screaming "You have goals! Dreams! Don't give up on them! Don't forget me! PLEASE GODS DON'T FORGET ME!" and I'm in the middle...
I don't want to be pregnant, but I don't think terminating is the right course either. Not to say it wasn't seriously considered. While other people may say "no, I never thought about abortion" I'm more than capable of saying it's what I wanted for at least a week. Then I remembered: I'm equipped to take care of this fuck up...I think... and things will turn out alright (Becks could make things turn out Awesome, but Mom is only capable of getting by). While it would be super convenient to not feel like shit for 9 months, push a human being out of my cervix and vagina, and then breastfeed for a year, I don't think abortion would put me in a much better place. It's really tempting though. "Fetus Deletus"...... Nope, still fucked over, awesome.
So Becks is impossible right now if I want a safe pregnancy, and I can't go back to Mom if I want to be remotely close to happy in my life, I clawed myself out of her once, don't know if I could do it again. So I need an in between. Let's analyze what I want to accomplish here. My first pregnancy was tackled very similarly to the one in the movie Juno. It was there, it was the source of snark and sarcasm, but I really wasn't 100% behind it. Many a time, I would get depressed, or anxious because, I wasn't ready for kids, I wanted to live more, see more, do more, be more. I didn't allow any pictures of the bump, and only took 3 pictures of my figure through the whole pregnancy. My second (and final) pregnancy was to be on my terms (shit), I was going to celebrate it (still don't even want it, I'm still hoping for ovarian tumors or anything other than a baby). So those are things I wanted... What can I have?
This sure as fuck didn't happen on my terms, for the second time, someone else's happiness was more important than my own (see the shit Mom gets me into?). We are moving, losing our health insurance, and primary source of income, I don't think a I could have picked a worse time.
I am not Becks... I was Becks, briefly, before I had my son, I was Becks for the two months I wasn't breastfeeding, or pregnant. Then, one stupid night, and I lost her again. I get another two fucking years of being whoever the hell this is... Mom, I guess. Notice how Becks isn't defined by kids, she may or may not have kids, but they are not part of her identity. Mom is different. She is nothing but diaper changes, breastfeeding, "I can't go out because I don't have a babysitter", bullshit. Mom is defined by kids, without them she doesn't exist, her sole purpose in life is caregiver. What does she do outside of that? Not a damned thing. Plenty of women find their true self in Mom, and that's great, you love the shit outta the bitch, but me? I hate her. She doesn't have time, energy, or motivation enough to take care of herself. Someone else always needs her, her whole existence is caring for someone else's needs. She could be two steps from suck starting a shotgun and no one would notice, not even her, because there are diapers to change, kicks to count, nursing to keep track of, tummy time to do, stories to read, snacks to get. She's too busy for her own feelings, her own dreams, her own aspirations, maybe later? I was Mom for two years. Two Hellish years of pregnancy, and breastfeeding. Two years of waking up in the middle of the night "Is Rayne okay?!"
I want to be Becks, but Mom is calling, and saying "time to turn off those silly dreams and emotions, we've got a blessing to make" Becks is screaming "You have goals! Dreams! Don't give up on them! Don't forget me! PLEASE GODS DON'T FORGET ME!" and I'm in the middle...
I don't want to be pregnant, but I don't think terminating is the right course either. Not to say it wasn't seriously considered. While other people may say "no, I never thought about abortion" I'm more than capable of saying it's what I wanted for at least a week. Then I remembered: I'm equipped to take care of this fuck up...I think... and things will turn out alright (Becks could make things turn out Awesome, but Mom is only capable of getting by). While it would be super convenient to not feel like shit for 9 months, push a human being out of my cervix and vagina, and then breastfeed for a year, I don't think abortion would put me in a much better place. It's really tempting though. "Fetus Deletus"...... Nope, still fucked over, awesome.
So Becks is impossible right now if I want a safe pregnancy, and I can't go back to Mom if I want to be remotely close to happy in my life, I clawed myself out of her once, don't know if I could do it again. So I need an in between. Let's analyze what I want to accomplish here. My first pregnancy was tackled very similarly to the one in the movie Juno. It was there, it was the source of snark and sarcasm, but I really wasn't 100% behind it. Many a time, I would get depressed, or anxious because, I wasn't ready for kids, I wanted to live more, see more, do more, be more. I didn't allow any pictures of the bump, and only took 3 pictures of my figure through the whole pregnancy. My second (and final) pregnancy was to be on my terms (shit), I was going to celebrate it (still don't even want it, I'm still hoping for ovarian tumors or anything other than a baby). So those are things I wanted... What can I have?
This sure as fuck didn't happen on my terms, for the second time, someone else's happiness was more important than my own (see the shit Mom gets me into?). We are moving, losing our health insurance, and primary source of income, I don't think a I could have picked a worse time.
I can still celebrate this pregnancy, but first, I'm going to have to get to a point of wanting it. I am currently talking to a doctor about my very mild anxiety and depression, and I think we can get me to the point of wanting the pregnancy. Opinions can change, especially if one is open to the change. This can happen... maybe not until the third trimester, but I have hope for this one.
*At the time of publishing, I am in a much better place mentally. I have confirmed the pregnancy, and with how far along I am, may still have health insurance when I deliver. I felt some movement and actually celebrated the pregnancy a bit last night. This post was really necessary for me to at least write out. I feel it's important to publish, so that other women facing similar (or heaven forbid worse) situations. Know that these feelings are normal, they may or may not pass. Writing it all out helps a lot.*
