And The Plot Thickens!

Well it’s been a while since I’ve been on. Being a single mom, working full time, and school…I don’t usually have much free time. But I’m back! Well what to write about? Some might think “Yea right, more like something to bitch about..” Well yes! You see, I use this blog as my online “diary” if you will, I don’t even have followers, so I don’t see the problem.

Well lets start with The 4TH of July. I, for some reason was feeling so self conscious that day and literally nothing I put on looked good to me. I haven’t been the same since my second surgery after Jude was born..I’m working harder, but I can’t seem to drop those bad eating habits, and not wallow in my self pity. Anyways, I was scrolling through my Instagram to discover I was still “following” Jude’s “sperm donor” and what do I come across?! A picture of this D-BAG in his fucking underwear…WHY?! No really, WHY? 1,WHY the fuck did I EVER get with him? 2,WHY would any idiot put up the worlds douchiest picture known to mankind?! 3,WHY DO I GIVE A FUCK?! so I move on its whatever, until last night.

I was talking to one of my girlfriends and she informs me that she just saw a message Jude’s “sperm donor” sent her THE DAY JUDE WAS BORN. Now that was 5 MONTHS ago tomorrow! He apparently was asking for my number because he knew “she had HER baby.” Really WTF? okay so I made Jude on my own apparently, since I sure as hell am raising him on MY own! I don’t know why I would expect anything different, when I was pregnant and still talking to him, he would ALWAYS refer to Jude as “IT” instead of HIM once we knew the sex..ANYWAYS, after finding out that not only did he know Jude was born, but that, that was apparently the hardest he could bare to try to see his son or get in contact with me, I.WAS.FURIOUS! I couldn’t stop shaking for almost an hour. 1, I wanna know who THE FUCK told him Jude was born seeing as I had him blocked on FB and Jude was born early. 2, How could any human being not want to see their child or go to the ends of the earth to get in contact?! 3, Again WHY DO I GIVE A FUCK?!?!

Do we see a pattern here? these are the three things I’m always asking myself..Why can’t I let it go? Why am I letting this shit consume me? Why should I care?! He obviously doesn’t and it’s not like I’m in love with him or even like him. I mostly want him to pay, and take responsibility, but my sweet boy is worth more than any child support, and doesn’t deserve to have a huge disappointment of a “dad” in his life when he has such an amazing role model as my dad, his “Papi” All I do have to say is that catch 22’s SUCK! Well that’s rant for today! Hey maybe one day I’ll write a post where I’m not bitching! Until then word to your mother. \___/ \___/

Confessions of a single mother: NO ONE LIKES YOU.

I’m usually very good about not holding grudges. I usually let it roll off my back. Some might take a little longer than others but I usually always forgive and try to forget. You know I really hate when people say that stupid phrase.

forgive and forget.

no actually I won’t forget because 9 times out of 10 what you did was pretty fucked up and I don’t understand how any human being could do what you did! Nevertheless I always forgive.

I know people make mistakes and I sure as hell know I do. But there’s this one individual I just can’t seem to forgive. at all. I’ve been struggling with this for a while now, over half a year and I still have soooo much hatred towards this person. I have NEVER wished ill on someone. Until now.

So what did this person do? What could really make a sweet, hippie, flower child like myself loath someone this bad? Hmm maybe it’s the fact that this individual knocked me up and left. Not to mention before he left he tormented me while I was pregnant. Pushing any and all of my buttons. He was always picking a fight with me. for no absolute reason at all. when he didn’t get what he wanted or if I disagreed with him this little bitch would say I just wanted him for his money….BITCH I make my own goddamn money and I can take care of my own goddamned self. I didn’t need anyone’s bloody money. He never did anything to contribute anyways! I mean we were never boyfriend and girlfriend but I was carrying his child. The only thing the prick did was come to one dr and ultrasound appointment and took me out maybe 3 times..in the end I didn’t want one thing from him. All I wanted was for our son to have a father that would be there.

But he couldn’t even do that.

It broke my heart.

Then it boiled my blood.

And that’s where I’m at today. Still hating him for all the things he said to me. For treating me like I was some trash.

He used me.

Said he wanted to be with me.

Until he got what he wanted.

Once upon a time I was naive to believe that shit.

After this…I’m not.

In no way do I EVER regret my beautiful son

I just regret trusting someone I shouldn’t have.

The last fight we had was over Jude’s name. He wanted some lame ass name I didn’t want and I made it clear Jude should be named after people who were actually there for him, which would be my family. I’ve loved the name Jude since I was in junior high. He came to the conclusion that I was madly in love with him and that’s why I wanted to name my son Jude. Saying that’s what the song was about and how I just needed to admit to him I was in love with him (which I wasn’t), that he could never love me and a baby wouldn’t change that..not only was I offended, I was pissed. I proceeded to tell him I was in fact not in love with him and never was….The last thing he said to me, while I was 5 months pregnant was:

Well if you can’t even admit to yourself you’re in love with me I have nothing left to say to you. As far as I’m concerned, it’s not mine until a paternity test is done. Have fun not being able to support yourself…

I told him about how I tried to get him involved in his sons life before he was here and that I wasn’t going to file for a damn paternity test.

You see the difference between him and me is that I actually have an amazing family who will do whatever it takes to help me and my son. They will NOT let me fall. They have done everything a REAL father should do and I am so unbelievably blessed to have them. I never filed for a paternity test and I never filed for child support. Some people seriously argue with me about this and tell me I should. But guess what. I’m Jude’s mom and mothers know what’s best. I choose not to do this because my son doesn’t need toxic people like his father and his whole family in his life. He needs people who truly love him and will lift him up. He needs strong god fearing men who will show him what it’s like to be a real man as far as I’m concerned, Jude doesn’t have a father. But he has an amazing Papi!

If his father decides one day that it’s cool to be a dad and wants to be involved in Jude’s life, that’s on him. no one should ever have to try as hard as I did or feel the need to force someone to love their kid and be there for them. So I won’t. And if he ever comes around, HE will be the one to pay for the paternity test, and HE will be the one to pay for a lawyer to go to court. And HE will be the one paying for his actions cause I’ll go for not only child support, but back child support. Hurt him where he loves it the most. His wallet.

The sad thing is, I don’t see him ever contacting me. As far as I know he has not seen a picture of Jude nor does he know when he was born. (He knew the due date, but Jude surprised me early) he has not messaged me or called me and he’s got my number. You see he cares too much about his money and his “lifestyle” and I’m okay with that. I’m glad about that..

Most people don’t know my story or who the father is. Which is for the best cause A.) it’s really none of their business and B.) we went to school together so we have many common friends. But all I’ve wanted to do since Jude was born was put him on blast. Send him a picture of out son and call him out. Since he looks a lot like him. But I’m a bigger person. However I will call him out since this isn’t Facebook and pretty much no one reads my blogs. TAYLOR WADE DIBIASE is the biggest, douchiest (is that a word? It is now!) scum of the earth! ahhhh…that felt soo good you don’t even know.

But I still can’t bring myself to forgive.

I obviously will never forget.

But I can’t even forgive.

I pray that one day I can and will.

But that day is not today.

The Worst and Most Wonderful Experience in my Entire Life.

I woke up early on February 7th to go to the bathroom and blow my nose and as I walked to the bathroom I felt the strangest sensation ever. Turns out my water had broke. I was 38 weeks and 5 days an my some was ready. I was ready…so I thought. Once it happened I just stood there frozen, not knowing what to do so I softly called my younger sisters name who’s bedroom was right next to the bathroom. She ran downstairs and got my mother who immediately started doing her hair and makeup…as I stood up stairs, soaked and trembling. I had been waiting so long for this moment and once it had happened I was scared and excited and just plain didn’t know what to do. Every new mom must experience this I’m sure. Anyways I go down stairs and talk to my parent who are getting ready and packing up the truck. After an hour and my mom is FINALLY ready to go (after me and my father bitched her out for taking forever to look good for the birth of her first grandchild..I can’t blame her, I was just really ready to go and be in a big bed.) we head out. First stopping at Kelly’s Country Cookin for some breakfast which I do NOT regret since I ended up having a c-section and basically didn’t eat until over 24 hours later. We finally arrive in Galveston, Texas at the hospital where Jude was soon to arrive. We go up to the 3rd floor where all the magic happens and I have this goofy smile on my face my mother just so happened to catch.

I felt as though I resembled a beaver but it was either the total excitement or exhaustion you could see in my eyes. But this crazy ass journey was only about to begin. I get put into a room pretty fast and the process begins. Doctors and nurses were in and out introducing theirselves to me and making me comfortable. Then the nightmare began. The first nurse comes in to put in my IV. Sounds simple enough right? NOT AT ALL. You see apparently my veins are small and like to hide so the nurse couldn’t locate any vein. She goes and gets another nurse who try’s to find one but no luck. The third nurse (my least favorite and at that point I was done if she rotted in hell) decided to just go digging around in my hand and inner wrist looking for a vein. There was blood and excruciating pain but no vein. Oh yeah once she did hit a vein and what do you know the bitch collapsed! Long story short, 2 & 1/2 HOURS, 3 nurses, 3 doctors, an ultrasound machine and lidocaine later, they got my IV in..then it was time for the epidural which was pretty much a walk in the park after that whole ordeal. The drugs were flowin I couldn’t feel my legs it was all good. Until I found out I couldn’t eat anything or drink anything until my son was born. You’d think with modern medicine they’d figure out how to not piss off a super pregnant woman wanting a ding-dong right before giving birth but I sucked it up. Of corse I have never been more thirsty in my life than when I was told I couldn’t have it. My mouth was like the Sahara dessert and even better my oxygen was low and not enough was getting to the baby so I was put on oxygen which made my cottonmouth even more worse. I was put on pictosin to kinda speed up the process because once your water is broken the baby must be delivered sooner rather than later to prevent infection…HA! (we’ll get to that snarky comment later) turns out the pictosin was causing my baby’s heart to drop after every contraction which worried the doctor. They kept coming in to check my dilation which eventually never got past a 4cm so you know what that means!! C-section. So after they decided that was the route we were going to take something strange started happening. My epidural had worn off on the entire left side of my body and I could feel everything but only on the left side. How awkwardly painful that was! I give props to the women who use no drugs. Fuck that! It was finally time for me to be wheeled back into surgery, my mother in toe with her scrubs on but first I had to have the epidural removed and have a spinal put in. While my mom waited outside the operating room they moved me to the surgery bed. I’m a bigger woman and I couldn’t feel my legs from the epidural so I had trouble getting on to the other bed. The doctor made rude remarks about how I was a “big mamma” which made me very upset. Then this doctor was walking someone through my spinal! like as if she had NEVER done one before! And I could do nothing but hunch over and hold still. I could hear him saying

No not there! Push deeper, keep going, stop that’s too much! Pull it out!

you can imagine how scared I was hearing this shit! Anyways they finally get that done and my mom comes in. They strap me down and start the c-section and I can’t even describe to you how strange it is to feel your insides being pushed around. I started getting extremely nauseous and almost threw up, then I started severely shaking and could not stop. I had no clue what was going on but it felt almost like I was going into shock. I heard them talking and it grew very silent. All of the sudden I heard a small cry. Just one then it was silent again. I’m super blind without my glasses and they held him far enough away I couldn’t even see him. They took him back to get cleaned off and brought him back for a better look. He was the most beautiful thing I had seen in my whole life. The first time I met my son he was blowing bubbles out of his lips and I couldn’t help but laugh. My world had changed forever and I was okay with that.

So we finally get home after 4 days of healing in the hospital. The ride home was a nightmare filled with bumps (notwhat someone with staples in their guy would ever enjoy.) and not to mention it was freezing and raining. And so let the healing process begin. I was just over a week into healing when I got my staples out and realized there was something off. I.looked.like.frankenstein down there! The incision scar looked horrific! All I could do is look in the mirror and cry. I started to become worried that something was wrong. My mother had taken off work to help when he was born but now she was back to work for a total of a day and a half when I decided to call the doctors to see if they would take a look at my scar. I was told I had to go straight back to labor and delivery in Galveston. So once again we all pack up plus one and head back to Galveston. We get there thinking that it was nothing serious and at the most of just get medication after three doctors and nurses looked at me they concluded that I had an internal infection and had to go into surgery again. It was the one of the worst things a new mother healing wants to hear…especially a single mother.

So later that night I went in for surgery the second time in less than two weeks and began the healing process all over again. I remember when the spinal epidural started wearing off. It was so painful but yet I still couldn’t move my legs. I remember getting out into my room and the doctors coming in telling me they had to change the dressing on my wound. My wound was about 10 inches long and 5 inches deep. They left it open to prevent another infection and it had to heal from the inside out. They came in and started pulling this huge roll of gauze out of me and all I could do was scream from the extreme pain I was in. I have never in my life experienced this much pain. Childbirth was nothing compared to this. They even had me on morphine and I was screaming at the top of my lungs and grasp the bed. I felt so bad for my grandmother. Helplessly watching me and yelling at the doctors. My mother was out running some errands and felt so horrible when she came back and heard about what happened but in reality she was lucky she didn’t have to be there. So for the next 7 or so days this small 9X10 room would be our home. And by our I mean me, my mom, my grandma, AND my newborn son. As the days went on the dressing changes got better since I was doing them twice a day. But when it was time to go I had to have someone able to do the dressing change at home because my insurance screwed me over and I couldn’t get home health care or a woundvac. My mom was finally able to do it. She credits The Walking Dead that I got her into before season 4 when I was still pregnant. She said otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to deal with the gore of it all. So now two months later I’m still healing and there have been bumps along the way but I wouldn’t trade one second of the excruciating pain for the smiles I get from my sweet Jude. He makes everything worth while and gets me through my toughest moments.

Some times it’s tough.

Ever since I can remember I’ve always wanted to be a mother. Some people dream their whole lives of the career they want, the dream house or wedding. My dream was always being a mother. I became one under circumstances I didn’t expect or choose but none the less I am one.

No one can quite prepare you for parenthood, it is literally something you MUST experience to understand where your parents were coming from. As a kid, when you were dreaming of the dream job and white picket fence the well mannered children and perfect spouse it seemed like attaining that was so easy. Well I’m here to say it’s not. And life never plays out the way you dreamed. Hardly ever.

It’s been hard for me to come to terms with being a single mom. Not having that “picture perfect family” I always expected and wanted and also letting go of all the hatred I have towards this coward of a “man“. But I know I must for the sake of my son. He is my world now and some things are a lot harder to do now but it’s seeing his smile that keeps me motivated.

It’s tough.
Being a mom.
A single mom.
Staying up all night alone.
With a screaming child you cannot help.
I’ve never felt so helpless.
And it breaks my heart.
I just want to make all his pain go away.
But sometimes as a parent all you can do is comfort your little one.
I’m learning fast, just how tough it is.
But I’m also learning how great it really is.