I won’t lie, these past few days have been rough. Friday was a bit more challenging emotionally. Yesterday was a bit more challenging physically. It’s no surprise that I’m starting to feel uncomfortable…I’m almost 6 months pregnant! The baby is growing by the day, my uterus is the size of a soccer ball that’s moving and shifting my internal organs, and the stretching pains are just what they’re called- painful.
Honestly, everyday is a bit of a challenge emotionally. Some days are better than others, but everyday I have to battle with thoughts of doubt. I fight to stay away from depression. I have to truly reach deep down inside to pull out that word of God that my soul needs to stay afloat. I have to find reassurance that everything is going just right and according to God’s plan. I have to say to myself: “I messed up in my decision-making, I foolishly believed man’s word over God’s word, yet I’m forgiven, and God is working it all out for my good.”
I start to question a lot. I’m finding it hard to not get emotional just thinking of the fact that I’m pregnant while I also have a 20 month old and I was left to do it alone. As for the father of my children:
He‘s no longer living.
He must have died. He’s dead and I didn’t get the memo. His corpse is buried 6ft under the ground.
Being that he hasn’t reached out to have any contact with his living, breathing son in 8 weeks, that is the only logical explanation. I’ve reached out via email a couple of times, with the last time addressed to him and his wife equally. I have enough common sense to know why he wasn’t showing any regard to the child in my uterus; We’ve already come to the conclusion that he was buying time when it came to showing little (if any) concern for our daughter.
If he had truly confessed all of his truths, I would have been getting contact in regards to both of our children: How can we help prepare for Laila’s arrival? Do you need anything? Can I see my son?, etc. Once again, true concern could only come from a man who had truly confessed his wrongdoing and aimed to live life righteously.
Before his death, I never asked him to help in the mending of the heart he broke with intentional deceit. I respected his “new” marriage with the woman he’s been legally attached to for over 12 years. I never tried to guilt-trip him based on MY FEELINGS. I only wanted him to pull his weight in the areas that concern our children he made with a lying tongue and cruel intentions.
I hate he had to go so soon, but God makes no mistakes. It’s a sad shame that he left no legacy to live on through my children. Yet, there may just be a blessing in my son not carrying on his last name. IF my children want to go see his grave when they get old enough to understand life and death, only then, I will take them.
Until Next Time…
-Alex