I debated for the last couple weeks to talk about a couple of things going on… Battling a confusing stream of emotions that I’ve been trying to sort out. I’m still trying to process everything. And so far the only thing continuously sticking is:
It’s not my fault.
I had this bright idea of wanting to have a conversation with “someone”. And the amount of emotions flooding me before, during, and after was… A LOT. I thought I was ready, that I could handle it. But really, I lived in a dream world where this would be one happy situation and everyone would just coexist and forget the past. We would have the matching supportive shirts for all of Ky’s events with everyone’s title on the back of it. Everything would be…fine.
But I was living in a dream world, hoping to forget my past.
And then, in the matter of an hour, everything I thought I had built up to forget or maybe “forgive” and redeem myself for, shattered into a reality. I was brought back to a time filled with regret…
I cried so many nights throughout my pregnancy, feeling alone, trying to come to terms with reality, planning all escape routes out of motherhood…or this life. I had already went through with an abortion years ago. Selfishly, so. But with everything that happened then, I couldn’t see me raising a kid or having to give them up to someone else.
It was my fault. I was “grown” enough to lay down. I should be “grown” enough to handle my consequences. Grown enough to take better precautions…
And then I found myself pregnant again…in what I think was a far worse situation. And contemplated aborting…again; to make life easier on T.O.P and I…another selfish act.
And when I diverted from the plan, it was my fault. Why would anyone choose a life of struggle? To be a single parent? To be forever connected with someone they despise and didn’t respect them? Why do that?! What would you be proving?
All of those same questions resurfacing, again. All of those feelings rising, AGAIN! I thought I was over this; had healed, accepted, and moved on.
After the “meeting” I just needed a minute. Called out of work. Slept in my bed. I needed the day (that or I’m just hella dramatic!). Either way, I gave myself time to feel my feelings, cry, talk to God, write, vent to friends, think. The thing that sent me over the edge during that meeting was being [indirectly] asked “why not take a different route?” I’m sure “because it’s my body” wouldn’t be a good enough answer. And maybe I was more upset at the fact that I didn’t know how to quite answer it. But I didn’t have an answer then…
I knew the things it didn’t involve: to get back at T.O.P. or to “keep” him, or to prove anything.
And yet I didn’t know how to answer this without sounding…selfish…or crazy…
“Can I handle it?“: The main question that engulfed and weighed on my spirit. I couldn’t find the answer in my finances, or a book, or through talking to others. However, I felt the answer. It was a feeling, a reassurance filled with hope.
The response: “With Me, you can.” And then I was reminded.
Forgiveness has already been given to me. Every choice I made was my fault. I chose to have an abortion. I chose to continue with my mess. I chose to go through with my pregnancy. I chose to have Ky. I I I I I…
But every step taken has brought me closer to God, even when I chose not to know Him. And I have no shame about that. When I see Ky play, hear her speak, show empathy and love and engage with others…I know the right choice was made for me (regardless of the kind of “impact” having her has caused others…)
In the midst of this, I forgot that I’ve been forgiven, even while trying to forgive myself. I guess that’s why that meeting stirred up so much anger in me; I’m not done healing or completely done forgiving myself. Instead I was looking for forgiveness and hoping to receive it elsewhere.
Just like Him to remind me…