And then there were three…


I have some exciting news to share…


Michelle 22 weeks


I am 22 weeks and one day along and only until recently decided to start telling people outside of my close circle of friends/family.

I partly waited so long because for the duration of my first trimester I was struggling with my emotions. I felt confused and slightly disappointed. I felt anxious and uncertain. I also felt scared. I knew I’d eventually have more children but it came a little bit sooner than I expected. I think it’s why I felt disappointed. I was more or less disappointed that I let myself foolishly make the same decision I made 4 years ago when I got pregnant with Mia. 

I say foolishly because it is uncertain whether or not Mia’s father will step up for this baby and finally grow up.

Let me just say, I don’t like uncertainty. As a woman suffering from OCD and major control issues, I can safely proclaim that I like things to be organized and well planned out. If you can find a way to use color-coding, sticky notes, and highlighters, I will especially love you.

It was therefore hard to wrap my head around the fact that I was in for ten grueling months of physical and emotional changes with someone I could not know for certain I could count on. It also made me nervous to break the news to my parents because it was a very known fact to me that they were not very fond of Mia’s father and they always found a way to make me aware of their distaste.

To my extreme and utter joy, they were not at all disappointed -if they were they definitely hid it well. It was a huge weight off my shoulders knowing I could count on my parents’ support.

I spent the rest of my first trimester assuring myself that I would and could get through the next couple of months.

Now here I am.

To my extreme satisfaction, I found out that I am carrying a boy. I felt from the beginning of my pregnancy that that might be so because everything about this pregnancy has been different from my pregnancy with Mia. My symptoms, my cravings, my moods… I obsessively tried every gender prediction test I could find and they all pointed to the possibility of having a boy so I felt confident in my assumption that I was indeed having a boy.

It was weird to even entertain the idea of having another girl because in my eyes, I already had my little girl and I didn’t need another one. Rather, I didn’t know how I could possibly love another little girl as much as I love my Mia. In that moment when I found out, I felt happy and whole. I relished the idea of finally getting my Prince. I told myself right then and there that I would raise my son to be everything his father wasn’t.

I know it will be harder with two, however, I am so blessed to have such a wonderful and selfless daughter. I know she will be the best big sister. I know she will be to her brother what I was to my own.

I am finally so happy and excited. I absolutely cannot wait to meet my son. I cannot wait to see what our future holds. ♥♥♥

Codependency is a bitch. 

I’ve endured five years of mental and emotional abuse at the hands of a jealous, selfish, masochistic boy. I say boy because he is not a man. 

A man would not abandon the pregnant mother of his child to pursue a life of reckless abandonment solely and simply because he was not ready to become a father. Yet he did. 

A man would not alienate his significant other from her friends and forbid her from speaking to certain people simply because he did not like them. Yet he did. 

A man would not choose a night of drinking with the guys over movie night with his family. Yet he did. Countless countless times. 

I can go on and on and on and you will ask yourself, “why would she stay?” 

I am guilty of wanting what every woman wants. I am guilty of wanting a family. I am guilty of wanting to feel loved. I am guilty of yearning for what most would see as mundane and tiresome everyday chores… I wanted someone I could cook with, someone I could go to the movies with, someone I could share in the banality of grocery shopping with… 

But in my deep longing for something that was inevitably not mine, I managed to lose parts of myself that I miss and dearly need now. 

I lost my sense of humor. I lost my creative passion. I lost my drive to succeed. I lost my ability to see things in a positive light.

I became a ghost of who I once. 

I am so infuriated. I am sick to my stomach knowing I let myself sink this low because of a boy. It horrifies me that I became a victim to something I told myself I’d never experience willingly. 

I wish I could say I am stronger now because of everything I’ve had to endure. I am sure if you ask me in a couple months I will be able to say so with absolute certainty. But right now? 

Right now I feel like a newborn child. Naked and afraid of what the world has in store for me. Gasping and choking to take my first breaths as a “free” woman after being abruptly torn from my source of comfort. 

I feel broken. I feel overwhelmed with emotion. Every day hurts a little more. I feel so raw and I haven’t felt like this in a long time. I want it to stop. I can only imagine this is what addicts go through.

I am left to pick up the pieces and try to rebuild the ruins that had become my life. I know I am not alone. The most beautiful thing that came out of these five years was my daughter. 


My sweet, loving, very intuitive daughter. I feel her love for me every time I look in her eyes. I am reminded of why I should pull myself together. 

I know it’s going to take some time. I know it’s going to continue to ache. I know I’m not done crying. I still have a lot of questions and I crave closure that I know I will never get.

But I will get through this.

I will overcome this.

I will be stronger.

I will be happy again.