The beginning

<- 40 weeks and 3 days pregnant. Postdate. (11-10-08)

Being open, something I normally wouldn't do. Something I can barely doing in writing..

I can distinctly remember the instance, the day it all began.
I remember the awkward silence, and the way we couldn't even look at each other.
I remember the arguments that day brought, and going home with a sinking feeling in my gut.
I remember the pills I took the next day, the pills that made me so very sick.
I remember although it was a slim chance, it was still a chance, and that was more than I needed.
I remember the next few weeks, as I tried to push it out of my mind, and not deal with it till I knew or not. We talked about it some, but mostly avoided the subject..
A few weeks later it sunk in some more, as I new.. even without really knowing, and he knew too. He tried to deny the fact, and convince me it wasn't real, but I knew it was, I knew by the way I felt.

After I knew for sure, it was still like I didn't know. The reality of what was happening wasn't so real yet. He tried to make me feel as comfortable as he could, as I was sick. We spent most of our time together talking about what's next, as he held my weak body and I cried. He was there for me, and some how it was all going to be okay. Right?

I kept it to myself for as long as I could. Trying to deny it as long as possible. As I told my dad I remember that day, and the weeks afterwards being some of the hardest. I remember feeling as I was no longer accepted, the fact of my decisions, and the consequences hurt not just me, but everyone around me.

The reality of it hit more when I got an ultrasound.
It's a girl.
A little angel.

And then he left...

Then I could feel her kick, and move. Even more reality.

Then he waived his rights.

Reality hit.

Now I had to make a decision, a decision that was now just mine.

Even before this I knew what was right, I just wanted something different.
I was selfish.

I couldn't imagine giving my sweet little angel way.
She had helped me get through the hardest parts.

I didn't want him a part of it. The "d" word just angered me. His name came up, and I cried. I would burst into tears and little fits of anger. I was hurt, and he had moved on.

Without even ever saying that's what I chose, everyone around me knew I had.

With the decision I made, I was able to come to terms with it in my own way.
I knew what she needed, and I knew I couldn't give it to her. Some how by giving her what she deserved, I was comforted.

I searched for her family, but almost right away I had found them. They were waiting for me; they were waiting for her. It took me awhile to tell them, they were the ones, maybe I wanted more certainty. But whatever I needed they gave it to me, the certainty became more real. As I got to know them, as I read the book they suggested and I cried. They were the ones, they were chosen before, I just had to follow through.