Motherhood Monday #3 Baby Blues

When I was pregnant I went through some major life changes. I had to stop being a kid. After all I was having one of my own.
A month before I gave birth John and I moved into together. I was beyond happy.
Everything went smoothly until after I delivered.
When I was discharged it was only a couple days before Thanksgiving. No one stayed home with me. I was on my own. I was in the hospital for less then 48 hours.
I didn’t know what to do with myself. Luckily I wasn’t in pain. I had a perfect birth. A perfect son.
Soon after John and I started not getting along. We disagreed on everything. I cried all the time. I wasn’t ready for all the changes in my life and I didn’t know how to deal with them. I kept it all in so that people would think I was handling it. A week before Christmas we decided things weren’t working. We didn’t want to ruin the holidays and decided not to do anything about it. Christmas came and went and I hoped for the best but things didn’t get better. Instead they continued to get worse. After the new year my job let me go. They laid of 3/4 of the company and he wanted me to find a new job. I wanted to stay home and collect the 6 months of employment that was coming that was more then what I was getting working. He made it clear if I didn’t work I needed to move.
I told him I was staying home and collecting.
I was told to move out. It was the breaker for us.
I was barely 19. I was a Mom. I was moving back to my Mom’s.
Things weren’t the same as before though. My room now only fit a twin bed after Johnny’s furniture was in there. I could reach his crib from my bedside.
I was falling apart. I remember the day he brought my stuff to my moms. It was the saddest day in my life. I sat in front of the door and just cried. I cried like I had never cried. He continued to carry my stuff in refusing to look at me. His father had come with him and I could see how hard it was for him to watch me fall to pieces. He didn’t want to get involved but he could barely look at me as I continued to crumble.
When he was done bringing my stuff in I laid at his feet and I cried. I begged. I cried and begged. I cried with everything I had and he said nothing. He did nothing. He left.
My world as I knew it was over. The man I loved was gone. The boy who shared my first kiss when I was 13 had just walked out of my life.
I started to shut down.
I remember just walking out one night. I left with a friend. I felt like the walls were closing in on me and my mom was refusing to watch Johnny because she said she wasn’t my babysitter. I walked out the door anyways.
When I returned hours later she told me if I did it again she would call child services for abandonment. She was there to help me get off my feet by providing a roof over my head. As long as I paid my utilities and took care of my child myself we would be just fine.
From that point I didn’t leave the house.
I didn’t shower. I didn’t call anyone.
I resented my child and I hated myself.
~
This went on for a couple of months and one day my father showed up (my parents are divorced). My parents sat me down and told me I needed help. That not taking care of myself wasn’t working. I needed to be there for my child. I needed to be there for myself. That John leaving wasn’t my child’s fault and I needed help to realize that. Johnny wasn’t the problem. He was just my child that was caught in it all. He was my responsibility.
I start counseling. I started taking medication.
Slowly I began to put the pieces of my life together.
I finally crawled out of my shell and put Johnny in daycare and found a job. I worked full time and saved all I could. Six months later I finally had enough for my own place.
I was doing it on my own… and it felt good.