Let Me Grieve

A long and arduous journey towards continuing existence, and hopefully, a better existence.

Denial.
I remember waking up every morning, my eyes swollen shut from crying the night previous, but for a few seconds of confusion, I couldn't remember what my life had become. It's like the first night I woke up in Logan, I looked around and couldn't figure out where I was or how I got there. That was my life now. I woke up, forgetting all the pain. I remember brief moments where I couldn't even remember being pregnant; maybe it isn't real, maybe this is just a horrible dream--until I couldn't because the stitches, the backache, the paleness of my face from blood loss. This couldn't have happened. I would never let anyone touch my baby and make me give him away. There's no way I would walk away from him. Why did I walk away? What is wrong with me? I want him back. Surely, I can get him back. Right? Please? I don't want to do this. I promise I'll give him the world. I just want my baby.

Anger.
Why did this happen? Why was Andrew so freaking selfish? I wish I didn't love Ann & Derek so much. Why. are. they. so. perfect. Why does God hate me? I hate all these stupid, happy, pregnant women. I hate all the sympathetic looks; if you want me to feel better, then give me back my baby. If I see one more pregnant teenager, I will punch someone in the face. Wait, she had an abortion?! What is wrong with her?! Why is everyone so ignorant and uneducated? I hate everyone. I hate this world. I hate my life. I really hate God. Why am I still alive? I can't figure out how I'm still living through this. All I feel is pain.

Apathy & Emptiness.
I feel nothing. I have no purpose. Why even continue when everything I'm putting off for everyone is a lie. Let me sleep, because then I can forget. Well, I'll have endless nightmares, but even they are better than reality. Where is my baby. He's growing so much, I don't even know him anymore. I'm a worthless piece of nobody.

Accountability.
I may have gotten pregnant in high school, I could have been a teen mom, maybe I should have made better choices, maybe I should have seen it coming. Whatever. I know who I am. No one else knows the whole story. They'll be judging me based on a mixture of truth, gossip, my lies, their lies, ignorance and assumptions. I know who I am. I know what happened. I love my boyfriend. I knew pregnancy was a possibility, but I thought we were being careful enough (after all, it's not like I could ask for birth control because I'm fucking Mormon. I'll rant about this in a later post probably.) I stayed healthy for my child throughout my pregnancy. He was my priority. I continued to Utah State University for more education, paying my way through it, then paying off my loans quickly. I came home when my health and the baby's health were in question. I chose parents for him. I researched them, I met them, I loved them. They are better parents than so many that I know. I had a baby, without a working epidural, and I placed him in a different car than my own 27 hours later. I did that. I did all of that. By myself. I know who I am. I know what I did. I am still standing.

Reformation.
I refuse to be who they think I should be. I refuse to walk like, talk like, act like them. I will be me. I will love my boyfriend despite what other's think. I will work, to pay off loans and save for my future. I will not go to church and pretend like I agree. I will be a photographer. I will work my butt off and I will be me. I will be a mother, a birth mother, a lover, and a fighter. I will burn bridges cruelly with those people who are worthless in my life.

Forgiveness.
I will forgive Andrew for not taking responsibility. I will forgive myself for making the decision to break my own heart. I will forget the people who said they would be here for me when they were endlessly against me.

Hope & Reclamation.
I will be in love and hope to be loved by Andrew. I will love my son with all my heart, hoping one day he will love me too. I hope I will see him and his family often. I hope they will never shut me out of our open adoption. I will return to a former, but better state. I will be positive for the future as I have been for the past two years. I will defy the odds and the bonds of statistics. I am not just one of the three in ten American teenage girls to get pregnant before they turn 20. I am more than just one of the 52% of pregnancies that were unintended. I am of the 2% that chose adoption for my son. I have grown to be so much more than a statistic, and so much more of a woman than others my age (even the married ones) who will never understand, and can never fathom what I have gone through.

There is so much I wish I could explain about my life, the paths that I've landed on (by my choice or as a result of other's choices) and how I got to be here, standing taller than ever. But then I would feel like I have to make you understand, like I have to prove to you that I'm not just a statistic. I am more than I have ever been. I did not choose everything that has happened, but I took it and handled it the best I could. I'm stronger in some ways, and weaker in others. I'm not whole; I don't think I ever will be. I am who I am. I will always defend my actions, and his actions and our choices. If you hate me, leave. I am not afraid to let you go. I'm tired of lies and misunderstandings and gossip and faking it.

I might even be happy. I love my job (yay to a promotion!) I love my boyfriend, I love my baby and his family. Love will win.