Monday Blues

Mondays are by far my longest days. They start around 7am and end around midnight. And somewhere in the middle of it I spend about 14 of those 17hours at school. This means that I only get to see my Little Man when I get him ready to leave with his grandma and won't see him again until Tuesday afternoon. Yesterday, Oct. 15th was by far one of the longest Mondays I have had so far. I slept poorly and was up earlier then usual, the Little Man doesn't realize that waking up in the middle of the night for an hour long conversation is optional and not mandatory. Needles to say he want back to bed and I barely closed my eyes when I was back up at 6:30am. After such a start things just felt like they were running on slow-mo. I had two three hour breaks. My 6pm class just wasn't working out and I didn't get home until after 10pm. And what made it hard was the fact that it was raining and so dark out. But even with all that going on, the hardest part was knowing I was coming  home and I wouldn't be able to kiss my Baby goodnight or hear his steady breathing as he slept. And after a long ass day, it bums me out. It's times like these that make me question if my going back to school is worth it. Did I make the right choice? Are the sacrifices worth the efforts I'm making? Is missing out time with my 2year old worth getting my degree? And yes I realize it's silly and maybe slightly foolish to still question myself after almost a year of being back in school, but somedays, I just can't help it. 
Then, this morning while fixing my hair and putting on my face, who walks into the bathroom? My Angel, and he throws himself into my arms and we just hug and hug and hug some more. I could have stayed in that moment forever, but he wanted down and out. Which was alright with me. His grandma must have felt how much I missed him and brought him over for a quick hello before I went back to school today. It was one of the best starts to a day I've had and I am looking forward to when I get home this afternoon and get to hug him until he says "let go." lol
So in the end, the sacrifices I am making are more than worth it if it means that this little guy will have a good and secure future. 

School & I

I'm half way through semester #3 and I'm so happy that I only have one midterm.
I believe this is why I am not currently freaking out, even though I have essays that need to be written and researched.
I'm feeling confident and quite at ease in my current surroundings.
Initially I had been terrified with the thought of returning to school.
How I would juggle both school and  child without feeling guilty that I was taking time away from my baby.
Now that I'm about to finish my 1st year things seem to have fallen into place quite nicely.
I have found a rhythm in which I can attend school and be there for my son, which makes the sacrifices more than worth it. I love what I'm majoring and minoring in and I can see how the future for us will be better as I get to do what I love, read & write.
I didn't expect school to be easy and I am not saying that it is, but enjoying what I do definitely does help.
I do get stressed out and I do have moments where I freak out about an assignment or essay but it's not the end of the world. I take a step back breath, call a friend or my mom and then get back to it while reminding myself it's ok if I don't understand that's what the professors are for.
And they're amazing, well most of them. A lot of them really take the time to sit and chat with you. Whether it's about school or personal they're really good at being there if you need them and they even got snacks to give you too.I've been very lucky, I didn't really see this for myself.
But I'm glad someone else saw this potential in me and for me and now although I still have a ways to go with school and being a single mom, I'm not alone.
I think that's what has helped me to start getting on my feet, that I am not alone, I have a good support system at home and at school.
Life is good and on the road to getting better.
& yes, life is about the journey and I'm glad that over all I enjoy it more than I don't.

Mom + Single = Crazy

In the last 3years that I've found myself being a single mom, things have been nuts. 
I've experienced an array of emotions that have not just made me feel like I was going insane but that I actually was insane.
As a teenager I suffered from depression, so I guess it was no surprise that while pregnant I suffered from it once more followed by more depression commonly known as postpartum depression.
This was nicely fuelled  by self accusations that I was a horrible mother, simply because I felt no love for the tiny being I carried for 9months. 
I felt nothing when I held him in my arms, yet he was perfect and a beautiful baby. 
He didn't cry often and he slept his nights.
He smelled good and he was always smiling.
He had a gorgeous head of hair and these huge almond eyes that were a dark chocolate colour.
He was perfect, yet I felt nothing for him.
And that made me feel worse because I knew that I was supposed to love him and I didn't.
I wanted to be in love with my child to feel my heart swell (like it does now) when I looked or picked him up.
Instead I felt quite indifferent to this tiny being.
I wasn't ready for him, moreover I wasn't prepared to be a single mom or just plain single.
I believe that the single part is what threw me completely off balance.
My son's father and I never made promises to each other, other than to see if we can make an "Us" out of him and I.
We were fuck friends.
Simple as that.
I did harbour hope that while pregnant we would come together and form a family and for a while I thought or more like felt I was led to believe it would happen.
Even after I gave birth I held on to that hope.
I didn't make demands of him for us to stay together and even when he suggested we live together once the baby was born.
Call me stupid, but staying with someone just because you had a child isn't the reason why I wanted to stay there with hi, even if I was tempted to say yes just to be near him.
Wanting me to stay so he could fulfil his sense of obligation wasn't reason or motive enough for me to agree.
I spent the 1st 14months of my child's life sad, constantly asking him to forgive his mama for bringing him into this world without a proper family.
For having him live in an environment that wasn't very stable.
Regardless of all this, I am happy to say that he was the kick in the ass I needed to take charge of my life.
He became the reason for my wanting to return to school and get my degree.
The reason why I quit smoking and wanted to lose weight and be healthy.
He turned out to be my salvation from a boring and unfulfilled life.
It took me a few months to realize I did love him "crazy-head-overheels-in-love-with-him" but my head had been so far up my ass that it was no wonder I couldn't see straight.
He was the perfect wake up call.
I have finally realized after some therapy and great family-friend-support-system how lucky I am.
That I am not alone in what I went through and I most likely won't be the last to go through it.
I am willing to make all the necessary sacrifices to unsure that my son and I have not just stability in our lives but also a loving and secure home where he will grow up knowing not only was he wanted but also very much loved.
Even if this all came at a great cost in standing up to his father (he doesn't see it as such).
I am glad that I grew a spine and find myself in a very busy 2nd semester of school.
Following my dreams and ensuring that this little boy who is my life can reach his dreams one day.
I am thoroughly enjoying University and following a healthy balance of single mom and student life.
I am also currently in a custody battle (hate the term) with my son's father, although the only reason he seems to be in it is too not pay child support as he hasn't made much time for our boy in the last year or so.
Still,  the important thing is  that this Tiny Being who came to be without planning is healthy, happy, loves to laugh and play with balls and planes, is in an environment filled with aunts, uncles, cousins and grandparents who show him on a daily basis that he is loved.
To me that is all that matters, not his father or my wants but that our Baby Boy is first and for most at the top of my list.

Me: The Woman

Becoming a mother was never part of my life plan. I had a job I thoroughly enjoyed and was planning on turning into a life career. I was with a man I loved (and didn’t even realize it at the time) but had made no plans of marriage or a real future other than the here and now. We were having fun and enjoying the giving and taking of a relationship with no status or name, ok it did have a name “Friends with benefits.” We did what we wanted when we wanted and if either of us wanted to do things without the other, it was no big deal.

            Then on December 15, 2009, everything changed. After two years of being together, without meaning to our lives were changed. My immediate reaction was to leave and not tell him I was pregnant, more so out of fear than anything else. A baby wasn’t part of our bargain. I felt I was living out of a Danielle Steele novel, only this time there seemed no happy ending in sight. His reaction was for me to get rid of “It.” Never have I hated a piece of stick more than I did when I heard him say, “You’re having an abortion”. He might as well have punched me in the face. That’s when I realized he didn’t love me the way I loved him. But after a week or so he calmed down enough to accept the reality of our situation. Enough to try and see if we could make things work and become a proper family.

            My pregnancy wasn’t eventful and he took really good care of me. I barely lifted a finger and for a time it looked as if things would work out not just between us but for us as well. I was on a honeymoon without having to get married and was really hoping that he realized he loved me as much as I loved him. However, time did nothing for the rift between us, but simply hide the fact that it was still there. I still loved him but I was no longer his priority even if he took care of me the whole pregnancy. I felt alone and isolated from the man I loved and more often than not blamed myself for the rift between us and for the fact that our son wouldn’t have the family he deserved. He wasn’t even born and already I felt like a bad mother, a bad parent.

Then on August 24 of 2010, my son was born, one very tiny but healthy little boy. I wish I could say that the moment he was born I felt the weight of the world lift from my shoulders, but it was quite the contrary. I cried but not out of joy but sadness that my baby boy wasn’t going to have the two parents he deserved. Because of that and all the worrying about Jeremiah’s not only immediate but distant future, I fell into a depression that took me nearly a year to shake off.

I felt lost compared to everyone else around me. More often then not I would cry and ask my son’s forgiveness for bringing him into the mess that was my life and world. If Jeremiah spent a few days with his father, I would keep the curtains closed and would get out of bed for nothing more than just going to the washroom. I missed his father, the fun we had had and the chemistry we had shared. I missed the person I had once been. A happy, energetic, hyper and social butterfly I used to know. It seemed she had disappeared and been lost in the midst of all that had been happing.

I harbored thoughts of suicide. Of jumping off of my balcony and this caused me to fall further into depression that I would consider leaving my son without a mother and a bad legacy. All these thoughts would constantly paralyze me and when alone leave me in a vegetative state until my sin would come home and for his sake would I have to get up and function. But I knew I was only a shell of a woman. A shadow of the humoristic girl I used to be.

It took 9 months for me to realize that I could not be the mother my son needed, doing nothing in Montreal. The way I was living wasn’t healthy for either of us and I began to seriously think about what I wanted, not just for my child but also for myself. I began to ask myself what I was willing to give up in order to make a better life for the two of us. I needed a real change. I needed to change the way I thought and to begin anew the process of loving myself once more if I wanted to make a better life for this little being and myself. I began to open up again to the idea of returning to school and started to make amends with the people who had always been there for me and in my miserable depression had pushed away.

After baptizing my son, I made the choice to take my life in my own hands and told my son’s father that we were leaving Montreal so that I could go back to University to get my Bachelors degree. The fight that ensued was nasty and sadly, we’re still fighting it today. There are days where I still feel as if I am being punished for my past transgressions and my son’s dad and I barely speak more than a word to each other. What makes me saddest is that he only sees our son when it’s convenient for him and to the world he says it’s my fault that he can’t see his son. To be honest it pisses me off that he has the balls to say that as he is fully aware he can see our son when ever he wants but makes no effort to do so. Regardless of all this, I am not only happier now than I was a year ago but healthier as well.

There are still moments where I find myself crying, and miss my son’s father, but now I realize that it doesn’t matter because two separated and happy parents are better than two who are together and making each other miserable. More importantly, just because you love someone it does not mean that you are supposed to be together and take his or her abuse or heap it on to him or her. I am happy if nothing else because my son is healthy and I am doing what I believe is best not just for myself but for my son as well.