I spent the last seven days believing I was pregnant.
And it scared the shit out of me. In addition to the normal questions about finances and apartment hunting and logistics, additional thoughts were rolling in fast and frequent every time I discovered that I still had not had my period.
“I can’t be a Mom.”
“Nobody should ever let me be a Mom.”
“I want so badly to be a Mom.”
“All I’m going to do is screw this kid up.”
“I am such an awful person. Nobody should let a child around me.”
And I would panic. In the bathroom at work. Forehead against the wall, struggling to breathe.
At work I’m deemed the office Mom. I’m that person who is going to remind you to not forget your jacket. Or ask about your cold. I keep the peace. I balance things. People tell me – someone actually said this to me the other day – “I wish you were my Mom, PD”.
And I love children – I always have – I’ve been a nanny and a camp counselor and I love my niece and nephews. This reaction to what may have been was so unexpected. It was at the point where I really should have checked. But thankfully, my period came.
Thoughts crossed my mind of “okay, if I am pregnant, we won’t tell husband or A, and we will simply deal with it.” And those thoughts scare me because that’s not how I want to deal with it. Also, although I don’t judge those who choose abortion because I am pro-choice (I firmly believe every woman has a right to choose for herself and her body), I personally never thought I would ever consider abortion and yet here I was googling clinics before even knowing if I was pregnant. The reaction I was having was so overwhelming. I’m married, for fucks sake. I can’t just make a baby with my husband and unilaterally decide I can’t do it. And then I became so mad at myself for the idea of abortion that I suddenly decided maybe I would give it up for adoption? What on earth is happening.
There will be a day and a time I want to get pregnant. I don’t know if I will ever feel ready. And I don’t want to spend the whole time thinking negative things. Which means at some point, I have to bring this up with A.
Thankfully, it came.
But the title of this post was originally “pregnancy scare.” And it was, a scare. But it revealed so much more to me than that. It revealed to me that I truly believe that because of my family and their actions towards me that I should never be a Mom. That nobody should ever let me be a Mom.
And that’s a deep rooted belief that needs addressing.
I am not her. But I clearly believe that I am.