Always a Birth Mom Never a Mom

I should be on my way to campus right now. I have documents to code and lit reviews to write. But instead I’m laying in bed wrapped in a towel; drops of water from my hair mingling with my tears making it difficult to see the computer screen. I dont cry often anymore, better living through chemistry and all that, but today i can’t seem to stop.

It started in the shower, which really is the best place for tears, warm comforting water and seclusion all in one. I was suddenly hit with memories of 16 years ago. 16 years ago I was pregnant. 16 years ago give or take a few weeks I was sitting down with my parents, my then boyfriend, and his parents. 16 years ago I was naive and full of hope. I had hope that by the end of that sit down someone would have given me a way. A way to parent my baby. Someone, any one, was supposed to tell me how I could do it. Instead I was told I was being childish. I was called selfish. I was reminded about how there are people out there who deserved a baby. People who deserved my baby. I didn’t consciously see the implication that I wasn’t one of those people who deserved my baby, but I internalized it. I internalized it fully.

I also remember being told that someday, someday when I was ready, I’d get to have a “baby of my own” as if the one I was carrying already wasn’t. I hate every single person who has ever uttered those words to me. I want to send hate mail to my former boyfriend’s family. I want to yell at my parents. I want to punch the facilitator in the face. Because someday is here. Someday is today. And still I dont get to have, “a baby of my own” still I am not one of those deserving of a baby.

I listened to them then and am reaping my punishment now.

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