I seriously tear up when I think about all the shit I was doing before I got pregnant with Zooey.
My husband (then boyfriend) and I were doing meth. Snorting, smoking, you name it.
I was always trying to get back the high I had when I first tried it which was with my mother the summer of 2011. It never happened. But I kept doing it. Before I started doing meth again I kind of hated my mom for doing it with me the first time, my mom has had a lifetime of many addictions because she had such a fucked up childhood, the first time she tried it was with her mother when she was my age at the time (17), I hated her for it for that reason and because I fucking loved it.
Anyways
We kept buying the stuff to give to my uncle for him to make it. Even though he’s a fucking weirdo and would hit on me right in front of Carlos and all the time on Facebook.
We tried to avoid the “crash” as much as we could, until we couldn’t anymore, I mean everyone has to eat and sleep sometime right?
I remember the day perfectly.
Carlos and I went over to my moms who lives in the middle of corn fields and her 2 big bloodhounds were loose, so as weak as I was from barley eating and not sleeping for days I went into the empty field to get them. I was so exhausted. You don’t realize how fucking huge corn feilds are until you’re chasing down dogs through one.
When we finally got them and were almost back to the house I sat down where I stood in the field and broke down crying. I felt like shit, I was so emotionally confused at the time, like a couple weeks before cheated on Carlos with my ex who I thought I was still very much so in love with. I just wanted to sleep for weeks and hope I wouldn’t wake up. All I could think about was getting high again.
What started out as fun turned bad quickly. It got so bad that I wanted to go run away and stay with my ex at his dorm just to get the fuck away from it. And I seriously almost did. Holy fuck how different my life would be right now if that’s what I did.
Anyways
We went inside my moms house, I forced myself to eat a burrito and then Carlos, my mom and myself all went and got high again for the last time….two days later I found out I was pregnant.
Pregnant. I didn’t know who the father of the baby was. I was doing fucking METH while pregnant. I seriously hated myself for months after. I told myself I should’ve known. But looking back now how could I have?
I’m not religous or anything. But at that time, I took it as a sign from God or whoever that that baby was my sign to get my shit together because I was going to become a mom. And I wasn’t going to allow myself to become a shitty mother like my sister.
Zooey saved me.
I don’t know where I’d be or what I’d be doing if I never became pregnant.
She’s so beautiful and gives my life meaning. Yes I smoke pot but I no longer feel the need to do drugs to feel good. I look at my beautiful daughter and she’s all I need. She’s my everything. I now have a purpose.
Ugh. All this reminds me of why I used to be so mad at how my ex can just not want anything to do with her at all. She’s 10 days into being 4 months old and I’ve only talked to him once since she was born. It breaks my heart, but only because I don’t understand why he wouldn’t want to be apart of something so perfect and fantastic. But I get it, he’s in college, not ready to grow up and an ignorant twat who denies her. It’s his fucking loss. Everyday I look at her and can’t help but think of how he’s missing out so fucking bad. And as much as I wanted him involved before I don’t anymore, it’s too late for that, he’s already missed so much in just 4 months. He is a complete stranger to me. I thought I knew him but I never did.
I don’t deserve Carlos one bit. He’s so fantastic. He gets on my fucking nerves sometimes but, I’ve put him through a lot of fucked up shit. I’ve broken his heart so many times in so many different ways. He should have left me a long time ago but he didn’t. And I’m thankful for that. He married me on October 31st 2012 while I was about 6 months pregnant with a child he wasn’t even sure was his. He stepped the fuck up and is now an amazing father. He doesn’t give a shit if she’s biologically his or not, she is his daughter no matter what. He is my rock, I don’t know what I’d do without him. We’ve been through hell and back and back to hell again. I married him so he would know I’m obviously serious about our relationship. I will now forever be faithful to him, and a loving wife and mother to our daughter and future children.
Yes I’m young, but becoming a mother couldn’t have happened at a better time. I’ve never been happier. Even when she’s screaming and I can’t figure out what’s wrong with her, I still look at her with awe and love her, I try my best to comfort her and make sure she’s okay.
My goal is to be a great mother to her. I’m definitily NOT going to be doing meth with her at any age. Unlike my parents I’m always going to be there for her. I’m going to give her the life, relationship with her mother and love that I didn’t have growing up. I’m going to make sure she knows that she can come to me with anything and I will not judge her. And I hope to god she doesn’t make choices like I have.
I think that’s why we co-sleep, breastfeed, etc etc. I love being close to her and I want her to know I love her with every part of me. The love you have for you child is the most amazing thing I have ever expierenced. Better than any high I have ever had.
Fuck I don’t know the point of this.
I just can’t stop looking at Zooey sleeping and all this flooded through my head and I needed to get it down. Go ahead and judge me for who I was. I deserve it. But please recognize me for who I have become and who I would not be if it wasn’t for her. I have changed.
I really should sleep now.
