“Your baby has a 95% of being born stillborn if it goes to full-term. We suggest terminating the pregnancy within the next three weeks.”
Okay. Cool.
I am craving one of those quesadillas right about now.
Or maybe I’m just craving faith.
After I baptized the twins, I realized I was an adult and no longer had to go to church, so I stopped.
I was a super super senior by the time I graduated high school, four months before my 21st birthday. The first time I dropped out was because I was 18 and could. If you’re reading this and in high school, don’t do that. Just finish you time and leave. I went back when I was pregnant with the twins. They were so small when they were born and had to spend so much time in the NICU that I had to dropout again. So I went back, and took my kids with me. I was in my cap and gown with three kids under four in my graduation pictures. But I did it. That’s probably the last accomplishment I had for awhile. My twenties were filled with good memories, trips, moving out, shopping. Most of this was funded by a sugar daddy but that’s for another post.
I got into a really bad relationship at one point. Guy was just mean. That only lasted a little bit, thankfully. Ironically, it was that guy’s mom who invited me to church with her one time. I figured, why not? I could use a little Jesus in my life.
You never forget the first time you truly encounter God. I remember the feeling I had throughout my whole body. And how much I cried. They were singing Freedom Reigns when I walked in. That song will always remind me of the day my life was changed. I soon broke up with him and dove headfirst into church after that. Joined groups, went Sundays and Wednesdays. My life was the best after that.
Not long after that, I met Greg in a shoe store that he was a manager at. He invited himself to a dinner my best friend and I were planning for that night. And the rest is history. We spent years loving each other, spending all our time with each other, spending time apart loving other people, hating other people. But we always remained friends. And we never talked bad about each other even when we weren’t too fond of each other. But I think deep down we always knew we were going to end back up together, we just had to grow up a little first. “Get it out of your system” as they say.
In hindsight, meeting him was probably the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He taught me I was more valuable than the life I was living. I began going to school (to get my Masters in Divinity. I know) and working in social work. I had my own little house that I lived in with my girls and a paid off car. Life was good, even when it wasn’t.
I had stopped going to church. I had experienced probably my first real heartbreak. I spent months getting over it. I think staying friends made it harder. And people constantly keeping me updated on when they would see him and her out and about. I didn’t need to hear it, I was trying to move on. Which I eventually did. But it took a lot. I don’t know why I stopped going to church, I probably needed it the most at the time. But I figured if I could go through that alone, I didn’t need God.
I found peace in knowing him and I ended on good terms and will always have love for each other. That’s how I was okay ending my relationship with Greg and with God. The love will always be there, even if the relationship wasn’t.
Question: Why do we stop needing God when life is mediocre when we could have him and he could make it great? I’ll never understand that.
After years, we finally decided we were going to be together anyways and moved in together. The first two years were the hardest. But it’s getting better everyday that passes.
We always knew we were going to have a baby. We didn’t know it would happen that fast. The doctor said a year to a year and a half before my body would be back to normal after having an IUD for ten years. I got pregnant a month after taking it out. I should sue. We were so happy though.
It was always bad news.
Every week was something different.
Like I said, it’s easier to let go when you don’t get attached.
But it’s still a baby in there. How is it so easy to let go? She was always so active during the sonograms. Kicking and waving her arms, sucking on her thumb and turning from side to side. Definitely her daddy’s daughter.
We’ve cried a lot. To the point we both had migraines. And it was easier blocking calls and turning off phones then to talk about it. But we had to talk about it eventually.
I think at this point most of our friends and family know.
But I’m scared. I’m scared to go into surgery. I’m scared how fast everything is happening.
I don’t want to be sad anymore. I do anything possible to not think of it because I just burst into tears. It doesn’t get easier. At least it hasn’t lately. Maybe it will, but for right now it just hurts.
I didn’t go back to church until recently. The love was always there but I was afraid to come back.
I get the same feeling every time I go back.
Isn’t that why some people find it so easy to leave relationships? Because starting it back up gives you that ~butterfly feeling~
I’m tired though.
At this point, I just want peace. The older I get, the more stability I want.
I’m thirty and my joints pop when I get up and my back randomly spasms. The least I want is peace.
I’m slowly learning I have to find it myself. Peace doesn’t come before the war, it comes after.
I’ll always fight for my inner peace. Peace in my home, peace in my relationship and peace in my spirit.
Don’t give up on what and who you love, fight for it.
For now, the war is on, but I’m winning.
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