I was 17. I know how many will see it, as oh god another teen pregnancy.
I found out I was pregnant after my first time, great luck huh. But as said in my previous post, this wasn’t suppose to be possible.
The father of the baby, at that age did what would be most predictable; run.
I was alone from the beginning, but I was so excited. So happy. I was in school studying child development. Being a mother is something I had always wanted. When I told my parents, I didn’t get the reaction I expected. My father was never ideal, accepting, or nice. Sense I was underage he made it clear he was in control of this situation. He wanted me to abort. I refused.
He inturn removed me from school, and locked me up in his house. Made it clear I was embarrassing.
No. I’m not kidding.
Some say it should have been easy as leaving.. and I think about that every day. But I was terrified of him. The amount of rage he showed me any time I hinted at being less than submissive was scaring.
I never saw an ob. I never had one scan, test, check up..
again, I know I should have left. But I had nothing..
I grew bigger and bigger.
I would talk to my baby every minute of the day. Feeling him move was what kept me whole, gave me the courage to get through this. I knew I wouldn’t be 18 before I had him, but I had a plan in my head. It would be us against the world one day. No one would be able to stop us.. not even my dad.
November 5th 2012.
That morning was normal, even the day. I spent the afternoon reading a book.
My dad had left for a motercycle event, in another state. I was relieved, i had even made an apt at a clinic near by. I was going to get the baby checked, go out side. See the world and not be ashamed of the baby inside me.
Then pain struck me. It was worse than pain I was used to with my illness.
I heard a pop, and wet myself.. my water broke.
Panicking I called 911 for help.
I later on the floor of the bathroom in the basement trying to breathe through the pain.
I remember the noise of the emts coming down the stairs calling for me.
Eventually I went numb. Pushing, and pushing, all I could wish for was my mom. I knew she’d be next to me, holding my hand if she could.
I heard his cries, and I couldn’t help but cry myself.
When they handed him to me.. I couldn’t breathe. I was stunned by his beauty.. he was so perfect.
They got me off the floor, and the image of the blood has never left my mind. I herniated in delivery and had to be rushed to the hospital via ambulance.
I don’t remember much after that.
Next thing is waking up, wondering where my son was..
A nurse came in and told me they had called my dad.. I begged her to not let him see my son.
Her face fell. I knew something wasn’t right. I asked if I could see Maxx.
A dr came in. Sat on my bed side and grabbed my hand.
From what I understood, my son had a heart too big for the world. He was so full of love, he needed to be in heaven where his love could be properly utilized.
He is an angel now.
I got out of the hell I called home, immediately after my release. I managed to get back into school, get a job.. my own place.
I hated myself.. why did I never stand up to my dad? Why couldn’t I have left? Seen a dr? Got my baby the help he needed..
I was empty. I dropped down to 75lbs.
After some honest, true friends, got me to realize the harm I was doing to myself wouldn’t bring Maxx back.
I sought out therapy, and went twice a week for 2 years.
I am still finding my way to talk about it all, but when I do, it’s releasing. Like weight off of my shoulders.. to know it wasn’t my fault.
I’m not alone. Maxx is always here.
I fell in love, 4 years ago. I am pregnant, 28 weeks. Scared ****less. I see a high risk ob once a week.
I’m currently 2cmm dilated, baby is head down. I’ve lost my mucus plug, but luckily my water hasn’t broke.
We are praying endlessly that our little baby dragon will stay cooking a little longer.
Luckily all scans show normal growth, and his heart is perfect.
I struggle understanding why I lost Maxx, and I don’t know if any amount of time or therapy will truly help me understand. The amount of pain I went through, during that entire experience, and many years prior are wounds I’m still working to heal.
I’m so grateful for the family and support I have from my fiancé during this pregnancy..
I can’t wait to meet my son..
Two boys.. I always wonder what life would be like if Maxx were here.
I love him so much. I love my son Cash just as much.
(Cash like Johnny, not money haha)
Thank you for reading my story.. I hope my ramble makes sense to someone.
And if anyone has lived through abuse, and losing their baby, I am so sorry, but know you’re not alone..
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