Tag: girl blog

5. The best and the worst

Being a mom was unlike anything I had ever experienced. My own tiny human, that I and the man I loved created. Having a child is the most intimate experience you can have with someone you love. They talked about soul ties when you have sex with someone, but holy shit the soul ties when you have a child with someone. Looking at the beautiful little one that was half me and half my husband, I’d never experienced a love like this. I’ve never loved anyone to the degree that I did my own child.

It was a little difficult, I won’t lie. I didn’t have a clue what the fuck I was doing. There were nights where I’d bawl my eyes out because my son wouldn’t stop crying. I fed him, changed him, loved on him, and did everything I could think of. I finally just collapsed in front of the crib and bawled my eyes out. At that point, I called my mother crying. She told me to relax, take a break, and let him cry for about 15 minutes. She told me to just shut his door, go into the living room and listen to some music.

When I re-entered the room, he had gone quiet. He was happy. I picked him up and snuggled him. And we were happy. I wanted everything in the world for him. I couldn’t even go shopping and not get him something. I wanted to give him as much as I could.

My son loved his daddy, even if he spent most of the time with Mommy. My husband loved our son. He wasn’t fond of changing diapers, but what person isn’t? Something I had also noticed is that he only wanted to do the fun stuff. When it came to feeding, changing, or bathing, he’d rarely do it. That was annoying. But we were being taken care of. I got to spend every day of my life with my child, and if that isn’t the biggest blessing in the world, I don’t know what is.

The child took up a lot of my time and energy, and I have to say, my marriage made sacrifices. We had decided early on before he was sleeping through the night to take “shifts.” I’d sleep from 10pm to 4am and he would take care of the baby. Obviously he wasn’t up all night, but if he woke up, I would still get continuous sleep. Then I would get up at 4am and my husband would go to sleep. This is before he would go back to work.

The night I went into labor, I noticed my husband being a little shady with his computer. We had been doing so good, please oh God don’t let him be fucking it up right now. I expressed my concerns, but he quickly dismissed them. He looked at me straight in the eye and said, “I will never do that again. You can read whatever you want.” The thing about my husband is, when asked, he always tells the truth. He’ll omit like his life depends on it, but he never lied to me when I straight up asked him. However, whenever I had these feelings, I was always right. But, I just kinda stood there, and was like, “Wait, I’m wrong?” That’s weird. But I let it go, after all, I started having contractions that night.

Things were becoming distant with my husband. When I was not taking care of our little one, I did my best to try to give my husband what he needed. I’d dress up in lingerie for him, but he did not seem interested. I tried to make the effort, but he didn’t want it. Talk about insecurity for a woman who just had a baby. I remained relatively small throughout my pregnancy, up until the last month. But I had a bazillion stretch marks all over my tummy and I was not too thrilled.

I didn’t feel pretty, and the lack of interest from the man I married did not help. I felt defeated. So I let him play his video games and retreated to my room. See, this is the point where we should have talked, expressed our feelings, and tried to come to some sort of reconciliation. But no, both of us remained silent.

When you are not doing your duties as a spouse, people start looking elsewhere. It’s not right or justified, but it does happen. My “elsewhere” came in the form of my high school love. We’ll call him Max.

2. Inexperience leads to experiences, and not always good.

My first real boyfriend in tech school for the military started receiving indications that I was a little baby-crazy. Now, he was nowhere in the position to be knocking my baby wanting tendencies, solely on the face he was married. That’s right, married. Judge me.

Judge me all you want. Because to you, I’m just some bitch you met on the internet. You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. That’s the whole point of this. But yes, my boyfriend was married. But listen, in my defense, his wife knew. Yes, now this took a different turn. I had met him out a field while we were doing PT. I was injured and so was he, so we were standing on the edge of the field. Well, he was. I’m a lazy-ass motherfucker, so my broken-ass was sitting. In a pile of red ants, I’d soon discover. He was a short mexican boy, with a really fun attitude, and some charm. He was ridiculously smart. Like, the kind of smart you can’t stand. There was shit he talked about that so so scientifically intricate, I’d zone out while he talked because it was just too much for my brain. It was embarrassing really.

I don’t remember how it all started, but he said something about his wife coming to visit. Then he mentioned the idea of a threesome. Apparently, that’s normal now. I did not know this then. I had sheepishly told him I was a virgin. And I was for the most part. I’d experimented with girls when I was younger, but I’d never had a dick in me. Fairly impressive for an 18 year old girl.

I once messed around with my high school teacher when I was 17, and I got caught. Worst high school graduation ever. That teacher was married too. Apparently, I attracted married men. And then with it. Because I’m a moron. For someone who was a virgin, I was kinda turning into a big hoe. That should have been my first clue.

But anyway, he suggested I come out with them one evening and see what sex is like. There was no pressure for me, just to simply observe. Let me tell you, for a virgin who’d never actually held a man’s dick in her life, watching two people you didn’t really know have sex was one of the weirdest experience I had until that point.

I felt intrusive, as if I was watching something I wasn’t allowed to see. Like, why was I there? I was a little uncomfortable, and a lot shy when they pulled me over to the bed. As mentioned before, I had a little experience with girls, so when they invited me to do stuff to her, I was like, okay, I can do this. It was a little more comfortable. I don’t think I did anything with him, although I can’t remember. But I wanted my virginity in tact.

I talked to some of my girl friends about losing my virginity. It was becoming something I just wanted to move past. I had been a religious girl in high school, saving myself for Jesus, and what not. Not that if you’re doing so, it’s wrong. Whatever floats your motherfucking boat. It’s your body. Fuck whoever you want, if you want. But premarital sex was taboo, where I learned about it from. You only want to have sex with your spouse, because sex is something God blessed between a husband and a wife. I was told that if you had sex with someone other than your husband, it meant that you were creating soul ties with another, and it would tear you apart. Also, I was told it hurt a lot. Didn’t make it sound very appealing to be honest. So, I had been flat-out scared to lose it. It wasn’t that I didn’t have offers, just the idea of being naked with someone freaked me the fuck out.

So I decided, well fuck it. Let’s get it over with. And I did. It wasn’t a horrible experience, at least not like some of the nightmares I’ve heard. I lost it in a fancy hotel room. I can’t even be certain I had an orgasm at that point. I don’t think I could tell, so I’m assuming not. It wasn’t bad, but I was more disappointed that I didn’t feel anything different. I got done, and I was like, really? This is what everyone was worried about? I didn’t feel in love, nor was I attached. I expected it to be a little more exciting. This is what they call “becoming a woman?” Very anti-climactic, if I do say so myself.

 

1.Where crazy comes from

1.Where crazy comes from

Nobody starts out crazy. We’re not born out of the vag or tummy being like, “I think I want to be a psycho when I get older. I want to hate everyone around me, not trust anyone, and live in a world full of shit.” At least I didn’t. And maybe I don’t “necessarily” hate “everyone”, but shit, in this world, I’m telling you, there’s a lot of serious dislike.

And I’m not crazy. At least, I’ve never been diagnosed as such. Of course, I’ve never gone to a doctor to test that theory. So we’re going to call me “not crazy.” But the problem is, I feel crazy. I feel it every day. I overthink waaaay too much, panic over the most ridiculous things, worry about everything, and am constantly stressed. But being an adult is being stressed. I know this. It’s not all rainbows, unicorns, and fluffy kittens out here in the adult world. We’re all struggling to make ends meet, pay our bills, work our worthless and underpaid jobs, just trying to make it through one day at a time.

But see, it wasn’t always like this for me. I had a pretty good life, as far as typical lives go. When I was 18, I was stationed in Japan. In 2011, I got out of the military on pregnancy. My boyfriend was in the military as well and we got pregnant. Okay, well I got pregnant.

I know what you’re thinking. Dumb ass teenager went and became a statistic. Can’t use a fucking condom. Irresponsible. And maybe that is the case. Yes, I was young. Did I bite off more than I could chew? Probably. Who doesn’t at some point in their lives? But, I became pregnant on purpose. And it wasn’t to trap my boyfriend. He was aware of it. This was no accident. This was a conscious decision made by two baby adults. You see, when I was 17, my sister had a beautiful baby boy that lived with me and my parents. I spent the first year of my nephew’s life with him. I had not had much experience with babies beforehand. But shortly after my sister brought him home, I fell in love.

Have you ever experienced something in your life and you think to yourself, “This is what I am meant to do.” ? For me, that was being a mom. I can remember the exact moment I wanted to be a mother. My nephew was maybe a week or two and I was in a recliner, with my nephew laying on my chest. No one else was around. I was softly patting his back as his squishy little face nestled into my chest. I was singing quietly to him. I believe the first song I sang to him was called “With Eyes Wide Shut,” by blessthefall. I was an alternative girl, so my music tastes are a little strange to some, especially when looking at me.

I watched his little eyes flutter open and closed, trying to fight sleep, but not making a sound. They finally closed and he lay there, tiny breaths escaping his chest. He look so tranquil, and my heart melted. Even though we had just met and he’d only been in this world for a couple of weeks, I felt so connected to him, and absolutely fell in love. “I want this. I want to be a mom. I want to be one right now.”

Mature seventeen year old I was, I deperately wanted a baby. From that point, I fell in love with babies everywhere. You know those movies like Baby Mama and How To Be Single when these women who want babies start hallucinating babies everywhere? Basically, that was me. Now, I wasn’t seeing full-blown hallucinations (Thank God), but there was an ache inside, knowing desperately I wanted one of my own.