Several months ago there was a series at church called masquerade.  It was several weeks of teachings on removing various masks that we all wear.  It was about getting real with ourselves and with others.  I am about to get real.  I am about to get very real and in the process I might hurt some feelings and piss some people off.  I am not writing this blog for the sake of others.  I could care less if one person reads it.  I write when my heart feels as if it has something to say.  Today I write not to point fingers or to call people out.  Today I write to come to terms with things I have been struggling with, things that weigh heavy on me every day.  This is my walk, mine alone and my words are for me so as to speak and feel what I have been avoiding or suppressing for too long.  This is me coming to terms with my part in everything.  I need to come to grips with my role in my life and take responsibility for where I am today.  I write in the hopes that it will help me heal and move forward.  

I remember with great detail the weeks leading up to me finding out I was pregnant with baby #5.  My husband was scheduled for a vasectomy, my friends were one by one announcing they were pregnant, and I was laughing at each and every one of them.  The spouses group had a little picnic lunch and I sat there and listened to them all tell me I was next.  No way, it is not possible.  My math had it worked out that between then and my husbands procedure there was no way I could get pregnant and well there was no way I was already pregnant.  Well, of course, we all know how that worked out.  

I came out of the bathroom and told my husband.  He was over the moon excited.  I was pissed-even used those words, "I'm pissed".  His words, "This baby is meant to be and is destined for greatness".  I couldn't be happy.  There was so much other crap going on in our lives at that point, we were in a place of such confusion, and the unknown was suffocating.  I didn't know what was next for me, what I was going to do, or where I was going to go.  I had asked for a divorce just a few weeks prior to finding out I was pregnant.  How do you go from that to yeah we are having a baby?  It was too much for me.  I was a mess emotionally and this was not something I needed or wanted at that point in my life.  I was pissed at him, at the world, at the idea of having another baby, and I was pissed at myself for letting my life get to this particular point.  

It took awhile, but I came to terms with the idea of having another baby.  I wasn't yet happy about the idea, but it was what it was and there was nothing I could about it.  I was about 5 months along when I bought the first couple little outfits.  I didn't buy much-a couple onsies.  I had picked out the cutest little set for the crib, but never ordered it.  I picked out a super cute car seat, but never ordered it.  I finally started buying things, in my last month.  It was sort of a well I guess we need some stuff.  I just couldn't even get excited about baby shopping.  I couldn't imagine having a baby.  I was pregnant and I knew eventually there was going to be a baby, but I just couldn't imagine life with another one.  I talked to her every so often but not much.  I complained about being pregnant for 9 months and 4 days.  I just couldn't get excited, I couldn't get excited.  My kids were excited, my husband was excited, but I just couldn't get there.  I never ever wished such tragedy upon her.  I knew as soon as I laid my eyes on her my heart would melt into a big pile of mush and all the ugh I was feeling would disappear as if it never existed.  

Even as I came to terms with being pregnant I was haunted by the things that had transpired in my life over the last several months.  If I needed to leave, I couldn't.  If I decided I needed to load my kids up and head back to the states I couldn't.  I hadn't worked for so many years, I was pregnant, who would hire me.  I felt as if my options were none.  I had but one choice, to suck it up and get over it.  I was so angry, and I was so hurt, and I just didn't get it.  I didn't get it.  Was I trapped because of this pregnancy?  Was I blaming the baby for keeping me where I was?  Would I have left even if I weren't pregnant?  Honestly, I don't think so.  I don't have courage and strength like that.  I couldn't disappoint my kids who adore their daddy.  I couldn't disappoint my family; my dad's words when he found out I was pregnant with Keondra still haunt me and she is 12 years old.  I remember standing in my apartment and him looking at me saying, "Is this guy going to leave you too".  No daddy, he won't.....I will do whatever I have to so you don't have to deal with the humiliation and disappointment of being the grandpa to two illegitimate grandbabies.  

My life stated spinning out of control in the late 90's.  I pulled myself together in 1999 when I found out I was pregnant with my son.  Now here it is 2010 and every choice and decision I had made in those 11 years were culminating into a great big ball of what the hell have I done.  

I stood at the kitchen sink washing dishes and I remember crying and thinking this is not what my life was supposed to be.  When I graduated from high school, I had such high hopes and dreams and visions of what my life was going to be.  Where did things go so wrong?  At what point did I decide it didn't matter?  I really was lost.  I didn't have room in my little world to be excited about a baby, which was really just complicating things for me or at least that's how I saw it.  She wasn't complicating things, I was.  I was going to break.  I was so mean and angry.  I just yelled all the time at everyone for no reason.  I couldn't deal.  I couldn't deal with everything and after so long of not dealing I was going to explode.  I never did.  I was like the volcano that kept having little eruption making everyone believe at any point I was just going to explode.  I never did.  I never completely lost it.  

So for 9 months and 4 days I was unexcited.  For so long I thought ugh, I don't want another baby.  So much negativity surrounded those 9 months and then in an instant she was gone.  How could I be so selfish?  How could I not be over the moon happy?  How could I have taken this pregnancy for granted?  If I wasn't so wrapped up in my own little world would I have done something differently that could have saved her?  If I hadn't been so overcome with hatred and anger would I have been able to look at this pregnancy as a fresh start-a new beginning for our family?  Did she think I hated her?  Does she know I didn't hate her, does she know she was loved by all of us?  Does she know that despite my attitude my heart did melt when i saw her, my heart broke and breaks every day?  Did she die of a broken heart because she felt unloved for 9 months?  

I am so overcome with guilt.  How do I live with myself when I know I spent so much time being angry and unhappy about the thought of having another baby?  So many people spending tens of thousands of dollars trying to have one baby and there I sat complaining about having another.  I didn't love her enough when I had her, because I assumed she would be born healthy and I knew when she was I would fall head over heels in love with her.  I wasted 9 months and 4 days with her.  I wasted that time being angry when I should have used that time to get to know her and to love her.  

God, I suck.