Well, what a crazy five months it’s been. I finally feel balanced enough to, at least, start blogging again and get some thoughts out of this brain of mine. If you’re following me on social media you probably already know I am currently five months pregnant…still crazy to say that.
While I’m now at the stage where I feel happy about my baby and this new journey I’m embarking on, it definitely did not start that way.
I guess we can start a bit at the beginning. I figured out I was expecting May this year, one month into the pregnancy. I spent a month feeling off, sick and tired all the time, but I brushed all that off to working 16 hours a day, my hour commute, and my history with inner ear issues that caused nausea. It wasn’t until day five of a missed period that I started sensing something was going on with my body. I decided to take a test before heading to work to find it showing a very light line for positive. For the next day and a half, all I had was numbness; I didn’t want to freak out or think the worst until I’d seen a doctor two days later. By that point, it was a sure deal that I was pregnant and the freaking out startedI spent a week or so with only a close friend to talk to, but the rest of the time I spent in my thoughts. It was a very rushed process of grieving, accepting, and planning how to tell not only the father but also my parents. I grieved the plans I had made for the rest of the year, my goals. I feared the reactions I would get from loved ones, I feared the journey of being a single mom. I grieved the environment I would be bringing this child into and already felt as if I failed as a parent.
Initially, I had gotten to a point in my life where I planned to have children alone but I had checkmarks to complete before I had them. I am nowhere near hitting those checkmarks. I wanted to be financially secure, working at home to allow more time with my kids; I wanted to have a home, travel more, and do more before I started this journey.
Of course, I’m sure there are a lot of you shaking your heads and pointing your finger to remind me I should have kept my legs crossed if all that was the case. But I didn’t…and I can no longer look back at the ‘what ifs’ and ‘wish I could haves’. For the sake of my child, I can’t go back and change things; I can only start looking forward to what is coming and try to create the most of this life.

The last five months have been a roller coaster ride, to say the least. It’s been emotional, lonely, scary, and confusing. Even writing this I’m still trying to figure things out. I’m trying to find who I’ll be on this journey and what kind of mom I want to be. Since finding out, I’ve moved states, I’ve lost a job I had worked so hard to get, lost insurance, gained a new (unexpectedly pleasant job), moved in with someone I never planned on living with, and dealt with symptoms I never imagined would take me down as often as they have.
But I’m still here, surviving as best as I can. Some days I lay in bed or on the couch and cry. On other days I spend the day talking to my baby boy and find joy in all his movements. It’s all a work in progress. Even now I’m still lost, confused about the future, and still grieving some parts of the life I could have had and the life I wanted for my son. But I still have to keep moving, even if it’s just him and me, even if I don’t know what the next step will be. The best I can do is create goals to be the best mom I can be for my son and shoot in that direction. When I get knocked down, I need to get back up again…not for me but him.