Some people were just not meant to be parents. I’m one of those. Ever since I can remember I never wanted to reproduce. Just the thought of having to share my body with something else repulsed me. And once the baby’s born, you need to have a toothless, drooling little mouth latch on to your body on very private parts.
By the time I reached high school I couldn’t bare being near a pregnant woman. I felt like I would ‘catch it’ like a virus. My heart raced, my palms got sweaty, and sometimes I felt nauseous.
Cognitively I knew that it was ridiculous, but I wouldn’t get into a lift with a pregnant woman.
By the time I was 20 I was diagnosed with PCOS syndrome. It was the happiest day of my life. The doctor warned that we needed to regulate my period, but I refused. I only had my period every 18-24 months, and being declared virtually infertile was the best news I ever had.
A couple of years ago I changed my diet to eating only raw food. Seven months later I fell pregnant, but I only found out at 13 weeks. My husband refused to let me have an abortion, or to let the baby be adopted. Two suicide attempts later I was hospitalized and drugged until I told them I changed my mind.
I started pleading with God (I wasn’t religious, but I was desperate) to let me have a miscarriage, and when that didn’t happen, I pleaded for something to go wrong with the delivery. That didn’t happen either. Then I begged for cot death.
By the time my daughter was a year old I realized that she was going to die, and I needed to deal with it. I divorced her father a year later, and for some reason l’Chante slept through that night. (It was the first time ever)
Not being sleep deprived helped a lot. Lol. I adamantly worked on changing my mindset, trying to see her as my daughter and not something that invaded my life, and ruined my career. It took forever, but I am now at a point were I can say that I truly love my daughter.
If I could go back in time, would I do it again? Tough question. I don’t know, and I try not to entertain the thought. She has been diagnosed with a disorder, and we go to speech- and occupational therapy together. We do the homework together. We play outside, build puzzles, swim, run, sing songs, swing, make jelly, have tea parties. It’s nice, but sometimes I still cry myself to sleep.