Happy Birthday

My oldest turned 5 today. I am in a whirlwind of emotions and feelings. Where have these last 5 years gone? My heart is aching, but I am so overwhelmed with pride at all that my son has overcome.

This isn't a subject that I speak on. I know that a lot of my followers wonder where my other two boys are. The answer will be explained in this blog post. I want you to wipe everything and anything out of your mind, and keep a clear head when we go into this story.

Six years ago, I did the unimaginable. I left one toxic relationship to go back with another toxic person. This toxic person had been in my life since I was in high school. I had a hard time realizing that just because you're with someone, doesn't mean that it has to be forever. Now, mind you- prior to this, I had never wanted to be a mom. I was career-oriented, goal-driven, on a path to a successful life. I was working full time, and attending college. I was power-hungry and even hungrier for money.

I used to have a relationship with my parents. It was a late developed one, but it was one none the less. When I found out I was pregnant, I was horrified. I was 23, and I wasn't ready. I am a naturally selfish person, and I am well aware that I am this description. The funny thing about this pregnancy is that the dad knew I was pregnant before I even had a feeling. He'd look at me and tell me that I was pregnant. I would laugh in his face. It couldn't be possible. I was on the NuvaRing. I was getting my cervix scraped every other week for precancerous cells. I had every medical reason why it couldn't be. (Also, the most important one- it wasn't happening.) God had every reason why it should be.

You know, it's funny how God and that stuff works. When you least expect something, or when you think that you know what you want, and God shows up with the complete opposite. He knew I needed someone to love me unconditionally. He knew that my heart was aching. He gave me the best love I could have ever been given.

When it comes back to my parents, I was always told: "Don't come home pregnant." Well, I did just that. Since the day I told my parents, I haven't stepped foot in their house. I haven't spoken a word to my father who was so disappointed in me. (He is a wonderful grandfather to my sons though.) I didn't follow through with his plan, what he wanted me to do. I guess you live and you learn? Which, I learned that I can't live to make everyone else happy. It has taken years, but I finally got it.

The pregnancy was a rough one. After finally coming to terms, and the idea that I was going to be a mother, I dove headfirst into this journey. I did everything and anything by the books. I went to every doctor appointment, ate every vitamin, read every forum, and then some. During the middle of my pregnancy, I switched jobs and got a huge house. It was just myself working at the time. The father wasn't the best at keeping a job and had more issues than a teenage girl. I ended up having collapsed ureters (right side). I had to have surgery every six weeks. In between those appointments, I was prescribed heavy, and I mean heavy narcotics. (Fentanyl and Vicodin) You read that correctly. All while being pregnant, I was taking these medications because I trusted this doctor. Why would a doctor want to harm me? Why would a doctor want to harm my baby? Now, please understand prior to this pregnancy, I had never touched a drug in my life. I would drink here and there but never dabbled in this unknown world, which I'll end up being very familiar with. I had never even smoked weed, nothing. I never abused these drugs I was prescribed. I took them as I was told. I never thought twice about it.

I was admitted in the evening to the hospital on July 15, 2014. I was having horrible pain in my back and I couldn't walk. I was literally crawling from the pain. They gave me an ultra-sound the next morning (July 16), and sure enough, my ureter was collapsed. They did an ultrasound on Nicholas, and his new due date was now reading in the middle of September. I was originally due in August. I didn't understand what this meant. The radiologist told me that my baby appeared to have stopped growing. Of course, I went back to my room and Googled everything under the sun. None of which ended up with a happy ending. They hooked me up to the contraction machine and had me be monitored until they could get ahold of my OB/GYN. It was later that night, that the doctor finally called. I was never made aware that they were going to induce me. My mom was in Tennessee, where she frequented back and forth for work. I still had a relationship with her at this time, and I wanted her to be there.

The whole early morning of the 17th, I was in horrible pain. I tossed and turned all night. I cried. I yelled at his father. I was afraid and I was alone.

At 6:45 AM, the doctor came in and told me they were going to induce me in 15 minutes. I was shocked. This can't be happening. At 7, the OB came in. My water broke on it's own. I put myself in labor. I was going. I had no chance for an epidural. I had no chance for anything. At 7:32 AM my 4lb 10oz baby boy came into this world on his own terms. He was 17 inches long, and he was my slice of heaven on earth. They tried to place him on me, slime and all, and I told them to get him off of me. I loved him from afar at first. I had a lot to take in. I was a mom.

An hour later, I digested the turn of events. I walked to his incubator and touched him for the first time. Prior to this, I had never held a baby. I never touched one, couldn't tell you the first thing about them. Here I was, thrown into motherhood.

Nicholas was born 4 weeks early. No health issues. 100% perfect. My health issues resolved after birth. No need for medication anymore. I went home, eager to jump on this motherhood journey. I went home, and I felt sick. I was hot. I was cold. I was shaking. I was moody. I thought it was hormones. (It was partially that.) The main thing it was, was withdrawal. The doctor never told me what was going to happen to me. That I was now physically dependent on these drugs.

I went searching at first for these medications. I knew an older woman who had been prescribed the same things. I would ask my grandmother for $90 a day to keep myself right. She handed it to me, without the slightest inkling on what was going on.

Finally, one day, I received a message on Facebook from a person that I was vaguely familiar with. He asked me if I knew anyone who wanted any bags. 2 for $20. I thought I was getting a deal! I bought them with out my child's fathers knowledge. I was in nursing school before, so I had an IV kit at home. I watched a few YouTube videos, and I thought I had it down. I was sitting at my dining room table when he walked in. He took one look at me, and screamed "You dumb bitch." He snatched everything out of my hand and looked at me with shock, disbelief, and disappointment. I finally opened up to him about my struggle. He struggled with addiction in the past. I wasn't comfortable claiming that this was what I was struggling with. He did promise to help me get off of it. We were going to "taper down". It lasted 3 or 4 weeks before he finally couldn't watch me do it anymore. When he finally joined me, and we were off to the races.

I never did drugs around my son or any of my children for that matter. I would take him to my grandmother's house (next door). I would do my thing and then go to school. Finally, when I woke up one morning and realized I had nothing left, we had to move in with his mother. I left Nicholas with my grandmother because I knew that it was the best thing for him.

That was the hardest day for me. Doing what was best for him, hasn't always been the best for me. I have been called a bad mom, continuously by people who don't know me or the situation.

The relationship that I have with my family is a toxic one. They don't trust me to even leave the house with my sons. I can't have sleepovers with them or even go for a walk around the block without being monitored. I have to fight in court, against people who claim they want what's best for him/them. How can they sit there and say they have the best interest, and keep a child away from their mother?

This day is always hard on me. Emotionally it's draining. I always dread this time. I hope that in the future, it will bring on happier memories. That he can have the family he deserves. I need this for myself, so my heart can be full.

Happy Birthday, Nicholas. I love you more than you will ever understand. You are strong, you are bright, you are wonderful. You have a marvelous life ahead of you. I promise I will be there every step of the way. Love always, Mom.


With all the love,
Shell