I will no longer hate you

Times are changing and I’m entering a new, super scary path in life. On the one hand, I’m starting my summer seminar on Monday – 6 wks living on campus and preparing for grad school applications, the GRE and working on a super long writing sample (disability as monstrosity and multicultural feminismsim). I have 6 wks to figure it out… sort of.

I’m terrified of failing. So much in my life has already been decided for me, so many choices taken from me, and so much I’ve fucked up entirely… I don’t want this to be just another one of those fuck ups.

And then… there is this pregnancy.

With everything that has happened and is about to happen I needed to disconnect and get lost in some of my more artsy hobbies. I danced, I played music, I sang and pulled emotions from places I didn’t know I was locking up, I wrote, I painted, and I took photos.

At one point, I found myself captivated by the way the light hit a solitary water lily, I watched intranced as the wind ruffled the petals and the water below it churned. I got so swept up in it that I let everything inside me out, I just let all the emotion go.

That meant doing the one thing I have worked so hard not to do since that fateful Saturday afternoon as I sat in the car in front of an Olive Garden with my friend… I cried in public. I didn’t rush into a bathroom stall of hide in the comfort of my car… I just cried.

The result was a beautiful picture (unfiltered, no color manipulation, no fiddiling with the contrast oo lighr exposure) of that very same flower. But when it was done, I was so exhausted. I just sat on the floor and cried.

I decided then that as much as he hurt me by lying and using me. As much as that toxicity had seeped into me… I wasn’t going to live like that. I wasn’t going to let the hate in me fester. My little bean deserves so much more than that.

If I’m going to do this, then I’m going to do it right. I’m gonna do my damn best to be the best mom to this little one that I can be for however long I can be – you’re probably wondering what I mean by that and I’ll answer as best as I can.

I have no more room in my heart or my life for hate. Not right now. If I hate him, which I’m sure is what he wants. It would probably make it easier for him if I did.

But if I did that, then he succeeded in taking the one thing I have never let anyone take from me and that is my compassion – my ability to see the good in people and to help others in need.

I will never let someone take something so precious from me.

So today is the day… Right after dinner. I will probably end up using my sister as a human shield but today it has to happen.

I’ve been dreading this day since I peed on the stick. It’s the day I tell my father about the little bean that is sprouting inside me.

I’m a grown woman, but I’m still his youngest and I’ll be dashing any hope that he may harbor that I’ll “do things right”.

The fear of his reaction has me paralyzed. And I’m so heartbroken that I’ll have to tarnish his image of me more than I have in the past. What’s worse, is little bean’s father refusing to awknowledge that this is happening. How do I tell my father that I am going at this completleon my own (sure I have a support system but that is not the same).

I don’t want to see the look of shame in his eyes. I have made that look a near daily occurence on his face since my mother died.

The people that know, they expect a different reaction from him a kinder, accepting, caring one because that is the only side he has ever shown them, but my sister and I know better. We know the angry man that hides under the surface.

I love my father. He raised me. He paid for and went into debt taking care of medical needs. But a provider is not the same as a caring and understanding parent.

When my mom died, he kinda shut down emotionally unless someone was around and if it was just my sister and I, he only let the anger out…

I barely need both hands to count the times he was genuinely happy around us. The times were we didn’t have to nag his to smile for the camera.

But, I can’t hide this… not from him. He needs to know but I just wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.

All this worring and fearing has left me little time to process how I feel. I have my first pelvic exam next week, right before I come home after my first week in the dorms.

My hCG levels were a little low given how many wks I am. They were worried due to my medical history and the shit ton of medicine I was taking up until the point that the pregnancy test popped positive. Arava is the biggest concern. I stopped taking it cold turkey as soon as I found out but the damage may have already been done.

I’m at high risk for miscarriage and ectopic preganacy.

Its another test I need to take in a cold, sanitary, cold, and generally unfriendly room.


I just hope my car doesn’t get ambushed by protestors again… Good looking out Mr, Wendy’s employee who was just arriving for his shift.

That Thursday, when I got poked and prodded by the tech and I threw up between blood draws… I hated him for putting me through this, for making me go at it alone but this time will be different. I will try not to hate him no matter what I find out. No matter what happens down the road.

I refuse to hate anyone anymore.


*** UPDATE ***

I told my father, and as expected it did not go well. He no longer wishes to awknowledge that I am his daughter.

It’s unfair that I am the only one who has to deal with any of this (I would have to deal with this and would have to tell my dad regardless of whatever choice I make regarding this pregnancy because of my medical history and my current living arrangements).

While I am completely aware that not all men are incapable of taking responsibility for their actions, and I commend those men for stepping up and being there regardless of this outcome (as it was not just 1 person who made this happen) in this particular case – my little bean’s father (Chase – see earlier post) gets to live his life happily without a care and without loosing anyone or anything while I’m on the verge of losing everything including the last bit of family I have left.

It’s moments like this that will make my vow of not hating difficult.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: