**Disclaimer : Raw emotions. This will not be proofread.
6 months pregnant and my parents finally made me buy a car. I was tired of taking the bus anyway, but it burned me to even think about spending more money on anything but baby stuff. Maybe the car is baby stuff.. Can't have a newborn on a bus.
Money worried me. Budgeting made me sick. I didn't know how we, or rather I was going to do it. And even though I knew deep down that he would be in our son's life, I still lived life as though I was going to handle things alone. I didn't want to get my hopes up, or begin to depend on the uncertain.
I was a receptionist at the time. According to the state of California, I made too much money to qualify for any type of government assistance. The representative from the WIC office told me that if I were having twins, I'd be better off..
I didn't pray at all. I couldn't bring myself too. I was too angry.
I didn't want to talk to anyone. Everyone wanted to talk about him.
"Have you talked to him?"
"Does he call to check up on you?"
"How is he doing?"
Talking to people just made me feel worse. I just wanted to be alone. Except I wasn't actually alone. I could see him moving inside me. He had a mind of his own even in the womb.
I knew that he hated the smell of scented deodorant. He hated Crest toothpaste. We used to eat salmon all the time until one day he decided that it was "too fishy". We loved falling asleep to SATC. And every night between 3 - 4 am was play time. He liked to nap directly after lunch and my mother's voice excited him. He hated the smell of cigarette smoke, but loved the smell of BlackandMilds.. He loved hotdogs, even though they were technically bad for us. We would to stop at the hotdog cart on Wilshire and Western often.
I chose his name on my own. I felt like I knew him the best and didn't feel the need to ask his father for permission. In hindsight, I probably should've asked..
I didn't think that my life would end up like this.. That I would be experiencing what was supposed to be the greatest phase of life alone. I mean, I had my friends.. But I was still alone. I felt like I wasn't allowed to be happy or excited. Like I wasn't supposed to be happy. But I didn't have permission to complain either. I chose to keep him. It's my burden to bear.
I let myself go. I didn't care about appearances, and now that I was driving everywhere I started to pack on more weight. My OB called me a "small whale" and warned that if I didn't lay off of the hot dogs, I'd quickly turn into a "large whale". We were cool. He saw my vagina, so we were more than just doctor and patient. I cried in his office a few times.. Especially when I told him that he wanted to get a paternity test.
Part 3 next week..