I was 19 when I became pregnant with my oldest. 19 and dumb, no really dumb. I thought dark beer was the reason for my nausea. When I didn’t wait the whole 5 minutes for my pregnancy test result I assumed it was false and then went to see The Blair Witch Project. Imagine my horror when I came home to a big fat positive staring at me from the waste basket. It was way scarier than the movie had been! I was unmarried and in a casual relationship. Actually it was a rebound relationship based on convenience and beer, lots of beer. I eventually agreed to marry him after the panic set in. I was scared, immature, and did I mention dumb.
However I did fall madly in love with the little babe growing inside of me. I was determined to be the best mother EVER. And I truly believed I would be. I read books, watched a ridiculous amount of parenting movies, and even attended a few classes at the local WIC office. I married her father when I was almost 6 months pregnant. I wore yellow. I hate yellow. I cried that day, a lot.
In the beginning I would say I was the best mother I could be. I breastfed and baby carried before it would become the new normal again. I made lists and had schedules. She was my EVERYTHING. I have hundreds of pictures of her sleeping. It was silly and mildly obsessive. But I had never loved anything quite like I loved her.
Over the years life dramatically changed, we would give her more siblings. My marriage based on beer and convenience had unraveled rather quickly. I resented his inability to cope with being an adult and he just resented me. It was a recipe for disaster. The abuse started slowly though, it snuck up on me. I didn’t even realize it was happening at first. Man I had excuses. I had reasons. And I stayed for a long time.
Then one day I looked down at my oldest trying to shield me, her mother from her father. And I realized I had failed. I was failing. I was not the best mother EVER.
I squirreled away what little money I could, I called a uhaul, I called his father, and my marriage was done. I was liberated, we were free. I never looked back once. We never looked back.
Fast forward several years, my have we grown. That little babe is now a young lady. I find it hard to wrap my head around this concept. But she is a tad too big for wearing these days. Hundreds of pictures of her sleeping might be a little creepy at this point. I don’t believe I have failed her, sure there is still time for that. But she is smart, funny, and assertive. She seems reasonable and heck even level headed. I don’t want to give her too much credit she is a teenager after all. I’m not the best mother EVER. I’m not the worst either.
I can’t promise I won’t falter. This whole parenting thing is continuously on a learning curve. But she is making it easier for me. Thank goodness, there are 5 more waiting behind her to do only God knows what. She made me grow up, made me want to be a better version of me. I thank her for that. However she still has to do the dishes later.
Happy Birthday Ramsey! You’re a big girl now!