kagablog

I’ll tell you the truth; the first time I was pregnant with Jason’s
kid wasn’t the miscarriage. I got pregnant before that, accidently. It
wasn’t one of those things, where the condom broke, or we forgot to
use one, or I forgot to take a pill. It wasn’t spur of the moment on
the kitchen table lovemaking, or even just a roll around in the bed.
The truth is, I don’t know when I conceived, but I first noticed
something was wrong when I stopped getting my period. I was tired all
the time, and two months had rolled by with no period, not even a drop
of blood, and you can chalk it up to stress, but I knew something was
up. My breasts felt swollen all the time, and I was irritable, like I
was constantly on the verge of getting my period, but didn’t.
Pregnancies in movies are one of those things, where the guy
practically throws the girl up in the air, you know, twirls her all
lady like and confirms his love. I had these vague ideas of making a
kids room in our place, painting it pink or blue, or yellow, dropping
out of school, being a mom, but who was I kidding you know? We weren’t
ready. It wasn’t a cause for celebration it was a cause of
unbelievable stress. I stopped sleeping at night, I started pacing,
making the floor boards creak. I didn’t think I would but I got
attached to my belly, I got attached to the flesh. It was so strange,
I always thought moms who talked to their stomachs and read them
stories and played music for them were cracked, I was always pro
choice when I was younger, like in high school debates and all that,
but suddenly I couldn’t stop crying all the time. It’s one of those
things that seems impossible to actually do. I mean, I did it, but I
barely remember how. It was out of necessity. Not out of desire to, it
was out of need. It was circumstantial, that was that. All the cliché
things you hear about after, like it being difficult to walk by parks
full of kids, or see them running around on the sidewalks in front of
you is true. It broke my heart every time. It was over so fast,
possibly even faster than it took to conceive, isn’t that amazing? I
mean when you think about it, it really is.
I remember being in high school, when I was 16 or so, and hearing
this Ani Difranco song about abortion, and thinking that my life
wasn’t interesting enough. Life gets real when you deal with that
stuff, I remember thinking. Here’s the thing, the thing I never knew
before- life just gets infinitely more complicated the older you get.
It never ends. The challenges never go away, the hills just constantly
get steeper. My life is worse than it used to be. It’s harder and not
more interesting. I never tell people this stuff because I don’t want
them to judge Jason. I was 19 at the time, and in college. He was only
24, we were babies. We were just not ready. The truth is, I know he’s
still not. But I still love him. Am I sick? I wish I knew if my love
was rational or just plain ridiculous.