Hi, ladies. I've been lurking here for a few weeks now, reading numerous threads to see if I could glean a little advice from them, and some of them have been helpful, and I do have an idea of what sort of advice I'll be getting, but... I guess I just want to put my story out there, and see if I can get some more fine-tuned advice. I apologize in advance if this post turns out lengthy. In a way, I'm also lining it all up for myself.
I turn 22 in one week, and I'm 31 weeks pregnant.
I met Bdad in late July of last year, a mere two weeks after moving to a place far, far away from my family with nothing but some clothes and $100 in my pocket to live with some friends and start a new life, save up for college, all that jazz. Bdad and I literally haven't been apart for more than (one instance of) two days since then. We even slept in the same bed, sneaking around his house late at night, just so I had a bed to sleep on instead of the chair I was sleeping in at the time. Our relationship has been full of extreme highs and lows, but it's intensity is only emphasized by how deeply in love we are. We've been through a lot, (mostly him coming to terms with his insecurities and jealousy, and learning not to take it out on me, while I've been adjusting myself so that he has to deal with those feelings less, meaning giving up friends, a social life, etc) and all of those things, including this pregnancy, have brought us closer. But I'm worried that no matter what path I choose, it might tear us apart in the end.
By the time we found out I was pregnant, I already had my own place, and was still paying huge chunks for the deposit. At first, we planned for an abortion. We decided it'd take much too long for health care to kick in to help us, so I started saving up for the procedure, (he didn't have a job and couldn't help, so it took awhile.) Before I had enough money, I suffered horrible cramps and severe bleeding for days. Sure I'd lost the baby and too poor to check if I had, we went on with our lives. Luckily I decided to stay healthy and not drink or smoke at all, because I kept growing and growing. By the time I was able to get health care and an ultrasound, I was 25 weeks pregnant. I had just barely missed the cutoff point by a single day.
Naturally, our first choice was adoption. We didn't consider parenting for a moment. First and foremost, we wanted to give the child a bright future, with a proper home, a proper family, a chance to get into a good college; everything we couldn't give it. I work at a deli in a grocery store. He has a Bachelor's in Business Administration, but in this economy, he can't find work, and he pushes carts at the same store to help me with rent and groceries. My job position is very secure and I do get health benefits through the union (finally qualified for them last month) so I'm in for the long haul to begin with, but he continues his search and makes very little in between deciding whether or not to go to school for his Master's and looking for a job. We make enough to get by, but not enough to raise a child.
I love him with all my heart. If he asked, I would marry him tomorrow. But I know he won't ask me, and I know he isn't ready to be a dad. He still has many things he wants to do in life, while I am content to postpone or even forgo school to raise my son. He is planning on never telling his family, because he's afraid they'll disown him, and he's so very ashamed of what we've done. I feel none of his shame. Guess it helps that my family's incredibly dysfunctional to begin with. (my situation's like a record for
my family, I made it all the way to 22!
)
I told my mother, and she resents me for telling her. She wishes I never had, because she wants so badly to raise the child, to keep him in the family, to know and to love him while I send money to help support him. She's even less qualified than me, being that she hasn't got a job at all, and is raising my 15 year old sister in another state while being supported by my dad. We don't speak anymore, adding to the incredible weight of loneliness I find myself under. I have only the older ladies at work offer advice, mostly leaning towards parenting. Many of them are single mothers, with encouraging "if I could do it, you can do it" or "it's the hardest but best, most rewarding thing you can ever do" stories, and ominous "I was never able to have children, you've got a gift" or "you'll regret it for the rest of your life" stories.
And now I turn to you ladies, who have been in my shoes.
A lot inside me tells me I can raise him. A lot inside me tells me I'll lose a huge part of my perceived "life" if I do. Then again, I've done SO much in my life already, (lived overseas, lived out my dream career as a radio dj, lived on my own, worked for myself for years, etc. I guess what I'd lose from my "life" is college, but I can always do that later...)
A lot also tells me that I'll lose a HUGE part of myself if I go through with this. I can't even envision what it will be like seeing my son leave with other people, then leaving the hospital with Bdad. Eating something. Going home. The emptiness. Who will I be, afterwards? My heart is breaking even as I type this. I can't see the keys for the tears in my eyes.
Bdad isn't very sympathetic... he sees it as a necessary step. I wonder if he'll ever understand what I'm going through. Or what I'll go through when my son is gone.
Our first adoptive family rejected
us, because I have a mental health history. That was so incredibly difficult to go through. But we're meeting with another one on Friday, this time, with guarded hearts. It's supposed to be an open adoption. I don't know, my expectations are all but extinguished by this point.
Maybe that rejection is the source of this confusion. Or maybe it's just natural.
I don't know.
Phew! Sorry for the huge blocks of text -_-;; Enough information there? Haha!
So... any advice?