My Early Family

 At 19, I was not the best mother.  I didn't do drugs, or party, I just was not home. My Mom took care of my son, and I took advantage of it. For a while, I spent my time with my friends, at their house. Could I have taken him with me? Yes. Did I?  No. That lasted a while, about a year. I spent little time with my child. I can't tell you why, because it was not to get away from my son, it was just stupidity.  I wanted to be one of the single girls. I knew he was OK, with my Mom. Yes, it was wrong. Yes, I still hate myself for it, 30 yrs later, and yes, I beat myself up for it still, and wonder if it is one of the reasons as to why our relationship would turn out the way it is now.

Fast forward to age 21, 1986/1987...  I got my own apartment, & worked at a grocery store.  I was off welfare, but not making enough still to support my son. Child support was non existent. My ex didn't even see his son, it was like he disappeared off the face of the earth. I hadn't seen him since January 1985.  I was trying to keep my apartment, with a string of loser roommates who would stay a month or two, and either move back home to Mama, or took advantage of me, so I quickly kicked them out.

I met my 2nd ex, the first time, in a parking lot of a club I went to with a friend, literally from across the parking lot.   Then we met again at some one's house. I liked him. He was cute, quiet, EMPLOYED with a full time job, and had his own car! Wow! Jackpot! A real grown up.  We became friends. I was one of the few in our "circle" who had their own place, so he came to hang out with me.  Eventually, months later, the attraction grew. We became a couple. Kind of.  And the first time we slept together, I got knocked up. Let me explain.

I was not an unattractive girl, I was just overweight. Not obese (yet), just heavier than I should be.  I could still attract a guy. He was fine when we were alone. But out in public, I had to act like we were not sleeping together.  See, in 1987, we were "Metal Heads".  And they don't date fat chicks. And if they do, they sure don't tell their poser wanna-be rocker friends about her. Hence my situation. He asked me not to tell anyone I was pregnant. He did not tell his parents and sister either, so when we went to his folks' house, they literally thought I was just getting fatter. Hmmm...

That pregnancy was different than the first.  I was not being physically abused, but my heart was being played with.  He knew I was in love with him, and he loved me, but he was in love with a girl who was already taken. I knew this, and I settled for not being his first choice. But it also complicated the pregnancy issue. I already had a child I could not take care of financially. He was still living with my Mother.  Now I am pregnant by a guy who's heart belongs to someone else. I make $6 an hr. What am I going to do? A guy at work "heard" I was pregnant. I had not told anyone there, except for the ex roommate who moved back home, so I knew who the source was. Sigh. Great. Everyone here will think I'm a slut. I got knocked up. And I HATE that term when it pertained to me. Anyway, so late one Saturday night, in the breakroom, I get approached by a co worker who wants to adopt my baby. I am Pro-Choice, but not for this reason, an accidental pregnancy. So yes, I was going to carry the baby. What else could I do? With my upbringing, there were no other options. So when I received this offer, I literally had never given it thought. Til now. I knew how much I lacked in Mothering skills, I didn't really have much of a bond with my first child, and now I am having another child. I hated myself. What have I done? So I went home, ready to discuss this with the baby daddy.  It's almost midnight. He's not home, but his car is there. Hmmmm... when I had left, an acquaintance was here, and she is, um, a slut.  They got some beer, and went to her apartment in the front of our property, and screwed all night.  I waited up all night for him. My mind was blown. Again? Really? Why am I so stupid?! Why do I fall for these assholes! So at 6am-ish, he comes in. He admits to where he was and who he was doing. I told him about my co worker's offer. Then I cried myself to sleep.  It was Easter Sunday 1987.

So when cooler heads prevailed, we discussed it. We went to their home for brunch to see their home, and meet his family. It was nice. Very nice. More than I ever dreamed I could give this baby.  Nice, established neighborhood. Beautifully designed, simple, cozy home. And nice, Christian people. I was raised Catholic, so that meant alot to me.. Baby Daddy was not raised with faith.  They had an attorney they met at church, and he could handle an "open adoption". They would set up a trust for me, in case I needed anything, They were incredible. I had my own medical insurance, so that was handled. So we decided to do it. They went thru Lamaze with me, and were there when he was born. The entire time I was pregnant, they would tell me that if I changed my mind, they would understand, and they would not hold it against me.  I honestly felt that I could go thru with it. I did not name the bump, I tried to stay detached in that way. I had to, to go thru with it. But, I started to question my decision. I didn't tell Baby Daddy this. The main reason I was questioning is because my relationship was getting better.  It was changing into a real one. He told me he loved me now. And I could see it. But we were still going thru with the adoption.

Once he was born, I was prepared. I spent an hour with him, with Baby Daddy. He was so cute, this perfect little bundle.  We went home, and he stayed there with his Mommy & Daddy. I was ok. At first. He went back to work the next day, and told me he was thinking about the baby all day and changed his mind. I had too. When he came home, my eyes looked like Guppy eyes from crying all day, they were so swollen. We talked when he came home, and decided we were a couple now, and we wanted to raise our son, and my oldest son as well, together. I had a family. I was 22, he was 24. Life was different.  We had a cute apartment together. He had let go of "the other girl" I told you about before. He was mine. So we called the attorney when our baby was 3 days old and asked if we could have him back. I cried during the entire conversation. I felt so bad for what I had done to these incredible people. I did what I said I was not going to do. I knew I was killing them. I still feel alot of guilt over having put them thru that.  He was a week old when we got him back. It was heart-wrenching, yet I was so happy.

So next, we move into a larger apartment so the 4 of us have more space. My oldest is 4 now. Here is where I feel my journey as a mother REALLY begins.

Pilot

When I was a kid growing up in the 70's, I used to imagine what it would be like when I was a Mom. What kind of Mom would I be? How many kids would I have? Gender? What would they be like?  And how would we get along?  This blog is to chronicle my personal journey, along with stories, confessions, declarations, and all that goes along with being a Mom. From My perspective, and My experience.  I don't know if it will interest you, or if it will maybe help some poor woman know that she was not alone in having not such a great time of it.
My journey is not anything out of the ordinary. I'm a typical woman, with 3 kids, 2 step sons, and 5 grand-kids.  I am in my 40's, happily married (It took 3 times) to a wonderful man. He and I did not have any kids together, but it would have been nice if we had.If you don't mind indulging me, I'm going to tell you a little of my history, in the hopes you might understand me better, and why I react(ed) the way I did/do.

I was 18 when I had my first child. But I digress.  I was married at 16, both of us High School drop-outs. Pregnant at 17, a Mother by 18, and separated by 19. I married my high school sweetheart. He was cute, and sweet, and loved me unconditionally, or so I believed then. Oh! To be young and stupid ( & gullible!) again!  We kinds had to get married according to my Mother, since we ran away from home together.  Me, to escape a not-so-great home environment, and him, to be with me and take care of me. And he actually did, for a while. We had a rough go for a while. But what do you expect when you're 16/17 yr old kids, no education, no car, no job, and no prospects? Welfare. We worked assembling garbage cans that are used at people's homes. 

By the time I got pregnant, we had been married for over a year, had our GED's, and were in job training. We were trying. We were ok, except for the occasional smacking around that I got from him. My mother was physically abused by my Father, many times, and I had heard a few of her stories.  It mortified me that I was now "one of them", an abused wife. At 16. It started 3 ms after we got married. He'd apologize, cry, tell me "It'll never happen again".  Til it did. I remember one morning, getting ready for training classes. My first day, before I knew I was pregnant. We were arguing, and he slapped me across the face. When I raised my hand to slap him back, I was thrown on the bed and choked. To this day, 30 yrs later, it still freaks me out if my Sweetie touches my throat.

After our son was born, we were ok, and the hitting stopped for a while. But we started to drift apart, quickly.  I was ready to leave him. I was 19. I knew he was cheating on me, and I told my best friend at her baby shower, that as soon as I catch him, I'm gone. I had already left him 3 times within 6 ms for the hitting. Every time, I stupidly went back. I was from a broken home and I really tried for my child to not have the same outcome I had had. I caught him on Christmas Night, his girlfriend's overnight bag in the back seat of MY car. He told me he had to work. He was at his Mom's, with his whole family, celebrating what would have been our son's 2nd Christmas, with her. I kicked him out that night, and was out of our duplex 7 days later, by the first of the year, 1985.

My son was 1 yr and 2 ms old. I was 19, and a single parent.  And so my journey begins.......