October 16^th, 2013

I've slept on it and I'm feeling a little better. Partly because this isn't a reflection of the value of me or my amazing child. It's a reflection of him and his integrity, which apparently is shoddy at best.

Besides that, he's voluntarily missing out on a person who is going to be the best person this world has seen to date.

I'm just saying that our baby is going to be magnificent and smart and he's going to win my heart over in a matter of weeks, my family and friends' hearts over in a matter of months and then, in the years to come, he'll win over the hearts of the entire world.

Who passes up the chance to be involved in such an amazing person?

Speaking of which, I'm actually five weeks. (I was off a little in my do-it-yourself calculations.) I'm on week five right now so my baby is the size of an apple seed  It's radical how fast they grow. I'll be showing by the end of January and massive when my roommate's baby is born in the beginning of March. (We find out if she's having a boy or girl on Friday!)

At work today, one of the customers I told, a cute tiny middle aged woman who always seems so smiley (if not a bit spacey, but in a totally adorable way) came in and her face lit up and she called me "mommy". She's been the only thoroughly excited person so far, besides my youngest brothers. (Who were arguing over what they'll be called. Noah says he's going to be Uncle Everything That Is Awesome and he says Jonathan should be called Uncle Weird.)

>sigh<

I'm still sad. Still sad that my baby is already being rejected without getting a fair shot at showing his father that he's worth every bit of trouble. But, I mean. What can you do? It's sadly acceptable now days for men to not be men.

>shrug<

Note to self: First appointment is November 7^th, at 9am. Eep!

Here's my baby this week:

And here's me this month, at week 5:

October 15^th, 2013

At this point, I can be 99% sure the father is going to bail. He's going to give me money but he thinks it's optional to be at least a little bit of a father to our kid.

I'm angry and I'm sad and that is all there is as far as feelings right now.

And right now, I know that if I wasn't carrying another person, I'd be just fine with dying.

I'm so scared. I can't do this alone.

I'm so done.

October 15^th, 2013

The terror increases. The truth is slowly trickling from the mouths of people who don't want to hurt me, but want me to know the truth.

It would seem as though the father is likely to bail on me. Not monetarily, no. But in all other ways. So it looks like my child and myself will be his dirty little secret that he, conveniently, gets to run from because he is not physically attached to the baby. Which is half him.

I have never understood that. Why do guys think they can do that? Pretend it didn't happen just because they aren't vital in the first nine months of their child's life.

Guess what. You're just as vital as I am. And guess what. You're just as responsible as I am. AND GUESS WHAT. YOU'RE A MOTHER FUCKING DAD (lol punny) AS MUCH AS I AM A MOTHER.

Sorry to ruin your mother fucking day.

And who the fuck says this is harder for you? Who the fuck says that you can't do this? Who the fuck says you're the only one with difficulty processing things.

I really just need to talk to him so that I know where he stands because, as you may have noticed, I'm getting a little bit irritated.

I need to connect with my baby. I find myself more excited when I think of Eddie as being involved beyond monetarily, at least to some extent. But if it's just going to be and my baby, I need to maybe rethink how I think of my child...

October 15^th, 2013

So things have taken a turn for the worst.

I found out something about the father that will put a definite snag to my near-perfect FWB (Friends With Baby) life I had imagined.

What had I imagined, exactly?

I mean, I need monetary help, and I know that will happen either way. But beyond that, I wanted some emotional support when he was ready to give it. Him at the ultra-sound when we hear the heartbeat or find out little boy or little girl, him at the hospital during or shortly after I've expelled the baby from my internal organs. And afterwards, him being in my baby's life a few times a month. Maybe even weekly.

That's not too much, right? I don't know. It seemed reasonable and just about perfect to me.

But because the father deals with a minor form of autism (aspergers), it might not be so simple. I don't know enough about that to know what is overcomeable and what is simply unscalable as far as challenges go.

I do know we all have our mental blocks. Clearly I plan things too much. And when something doesn't go according to my carefully prepared plans, I lose it. Beyond that, if I procrastinate over something it becomes A Thing. That Thing becomes, to me, what represents all of my failures and I will not touch it. Sometimes The Thing is big, like going to college. But more often it's so simple, like making a phone call or even bringing something in from my room or doing dishes.

The Thing scares me, because it tells me I screw up.

So I know that we all have these hangups, but I don't know how hung up he'll be over this. Will he be able to be there that often? Could we compromise to make him more comfortable? Would he be able to see his child once monthly, a medium that I would be impressed with in this situation.

I don't know what this is going to look like now, and I thought I did. He's putting on a brave face for me, but he's not going to adjust to this quickly at all. He's definitely not ready to come to terms with this, and he may not be for months.

It was almost perfect (as far as impregnated fuck buddies go).

And now I'm scared again.

October 14^th, 2013

The idea is finally sinking in. I'm going to have a baby. It sank in a lot more when I realized that today, the 14^th, begins my sixth week of pregnancy. (Scientifically, pregnancy begins two weeks before there's actually a baby in there. It's really complicated to figure out, but I diiiiid.)

So right now, my baby is the size of a nail head. It's heart beats 80 times per minute, which is like as much as my heart beats. Plus, it has all the beginnings of his facial features.

And I really think I'm starting to love it.

I'm due June 16^th 2014, which is kind of exciting. I realized that in January is when I'll be able to find out if I'm having a little girl or a little boy (please be a boy). And I'll be able to hear the heartbeat in the middle of next month.

Beyond that, when my roommate, Jonica, has her baby in the beginning of March, I'm going to be maaassive, in the beginning of my sixth month of pregnancy, and more than halfway through.

Week six, though. That's where I am. Wow...

I told my brothers today, the two youngest ones. They were excited. More excited than me. Which is kind of awesome of them. Totally made my day.

Also, I've (prematurely) thought of names. I really like the name Priscilla for a girl, but I get a lot of mixed responses about that. I like it, though. I'd call her Pri. Bri and Pri.

But I've decided on Titus for a boy. I adore that name, and I love Ti as a nickname.

I guess I ought to way in the opinion of the father, whose opinion in general is still yet to be decided upon. I haven't spoken to him since I told him. I hope he's doing okay. I'm getting anxious to talk to him about things. Express that I want him there for more than monetary reasons... I want the other half of this equation to be, you know... the other half of this equation.

It's not like I want him to be at every appointment or in the delivery room or anything. Of course not. But it'd be really comforting to have him in the birth center at least, and at one or two of the big, important ones. Like the heartbeat next month and the gender one, maybe? I think that would be radical.

I just don't want to do this alone, and I never understood why guys think that, because they're not physically attached to their growing child, they aren't responsible to be more than just a giver-of-funds. Money is good, and I'll need it. But we were friends with benefits and now we're friends with a baby. He's a dad just as much as I am a mom.

But something we have is time. So I'll be patient.

On another note, here is a sketch of what my baby looks like.

October 12^th, 2013

So I met the father of the embryo at my good friends' house back towards the end of August. He'd been staying with them over the summer and only just recently and inconveniently went back to where he hails from, like an hour away from where I live. I wanted to tell him in person, but that clearly wasn't going to happen, so I went over to my friends' house and told them about the baby, hoping that they could help me get ahold of him.

I was worried because they're good friends with both the father and I. Would they choose a side if the father decided to be a douche? Would they be really disappointed with me...? These were my fears when I went over.

But they were marvelous. Those men are angels, they are. God, I love them. And they told me that the father had actually expressed worries about this situation, hoped pregnancy would not be a result of our unprotected incident  But that he also said he wouldn't run away from it if it happened. My friend assured me that the father is a man of his word.

And then, totally out of coincidence with no knowledge of what has been mutating in my uterus, the father called one of my friends to let him know that he's been pretty much cut off from the outside world since he doesn't have internet and his phone is off.

I decided to be brave and have my friend call back so I can tell him.

I told him, and I have to say I am impressed. The truth is that the father is a few years younger than me. I'm twenty-two and he is nineteen. (I know... But, I mean, the purpose of our "relationship" was to scratch itches and it didn't seem like a problem. Then we had to go and be stupid.)

But anyway, he was... really impressive. I think he's worried like I am. Like he'll suck as a dad, he won't care about the kid and he won't be able to provide anything for it.

But I think the fact that he's worried about this stuff screams that he's going to be way, way better than he thinks he is. And the fact that he's not going to bail, just... It just makes this a lot more okay.

I'm going to be a mom, but I don't have to do it alone and that is the best thing he could give me. (Plus I heard his mother is a sweetheart, so even more relief headed my way.)

In other news, this is my positive pregnancy test.

And now that the father knows, I think I will begin to, like, feel normal about this. In fact, I can't bear the thought of miscarrying. I don't know why, but the thought of this baby changing my life scares me. But I wouldn't have it any other way...

I've decided motherhood is not really big on logic.

October 11^th, 2013

Sleeping on it didn't help. But watching Juno did. "That little pink cross is so unholy."

I know them feels, Juno.

It's weird. I will think of something pregnancy or baby related and get a little wave of excitement followed by a massive gag reflex. I know they'll even out eventually, and one day the wave of excitement will far surpass the initial disgust and fear.

It's just... I don't think I've ever handled this much stress at once. And I can't be stressed cause the embryo will die, and even though I'm scared, I think I would be really really sad if the embryo died.

It's not just being pregnant. It's all the finances that come with it, telling the father, where to live...

And, God, my job. Which I'm 99% certain I will lose within four months (complicated, just don't ask).

So I guess first up is finding a way to, like, go to the doctor's since I'm not insured. And then I will have to find a new job. So this is just marvelous.

I don't feel any pregnant-y things yet. Like no sickness. I'm unnaturally sore, though, so I think that's something. I have started prenatals which makes it waaay too real, but I want things to be okay...

This explains why I gained so much weight the last two weeks. It was the same for my roommate. The first few weeks of her pregnancy she was an eating machine, couldn't stop. I had zero control for a while there. If it was edible, it was in my mouth. Oi vey.

But I have to be a little better now. Cause it's not just me anymore. Apparently it never will be again.

Just realized this significantly decreases the chances of me marrying Adam Young from Owl City...