Friday, March 18, 2011
This could very easily be a yet another story of a breakup. It wasn't the first time my heart was broken and most certainly not the last. I spent the first couple of weeks so angry and hurt. Mostly at myself. For not telling Eric how I felt. Never telling him that I loved him with my whole heart. Also pissed at myself for loving him so much when it was clear he didn't feel the same. After those couple of weeks I fooled myself into thinking I looked forward to dating new people. Looked forward to butterflies & newness. Almost a month had gone by, I was doing fine, and then it happened. Or rather, it didn't happen. My period didn't come. Shit.
I don't know what I expected. I didn't want Eric back. Actually I did. But not because I was pregnant. So I would do it alone. In the few moments before I dropped the news on him, during polite conversation, I wished I could suspend time. If we weren't together, at least we could be friends. But then reality crashed in. I was prepared for anger, yes. But I wasn't prepared for the realization that the man I was in love with was a selfish jerk. That I'd been strung along much longer than I previously knew. I kept thinking that if he only knew how much I loved him he would know that I wouldn't get pregnant on purpose. Sometimes birth control really doesn't work. If he only knew that my ovaries have so many cysts, getting pregnant at all was a feat. That I would never intentionally ruin his life. Nor did I really think his life was ruined, after all I wasn't asking him for a single thing. Yet there I was. About to become a single mom for the second time. And I didn't want that. Not for me or my daughter. I don't want her thinking that its ok to get pregnant as a single mom. Twice. I went for my sonogram. Uterus is enlarged, could be nothing, could be bad. Ultimately I focus on the "could be bad" & decide its in my & my daughter's best interest to terminate.
This is where the real story of lost love begins. I felt it in my heart that I was making the wrong decision. Yet it was the only logical one. How can a mother choose one child over another in the name of being a good mom?! I regret my choice because yes money would be tight, I would be alone, my bear would be jealous. But I would undoubtedly love my baby's big brown eyes wholeheartedly no matter what. I already did. I want my baby back, but I can't undo things. I lost pure love through my own fault. I didn't just lose it. I killed it. Worst part is that sometimes when I'm crying, I just want her father's hugs.