Let's go back to when I was pregnant with my third daughter. Let's call her...."Sadie". It took me 2 years to convince my husband...let's call him..."Brad"...to have another baby. He was DONE after the difficult pregnancy, labour and delivery of our second daughter...."Olivia". He was sure that our first born, "Maci", and Olivia were it. But I knew in my soul that someone was missing. So I talked, and talked, and begged, and bargained until he finally agreed to expanding our family one more time.
The pregnancy was mild, compared to my first two. I was nauseous every day with Maci & Olivia. With Sadie- only the first 3 months...but talk about TIRED. I would fall asleep all the time, just randomly. Think I would sit down to put my feet up for a minute, and boom! Sleeping. Good thing Maci & Olivia are angels. They are best friends (most days) and play together so great. I was POSITIVE that I was having a boy, because the pregnancy was completely opposite of what my previous two were. Brad wanted to find out the sex of the baby at 20 weeks, and I didn't. Take a guess at who won that little battle? He was so upset. We had found out with the first two, and he said he needed to know! But I knew that this would probably be my last pregnancy, and the last time I would get to have the biggest surprise of my life. I really wanted that. (And it was the COOLEST moment, EVER! Brad is now so happy that I was stubborn, and refused to let him find out.)
You see...I was just shy of 21 when I unexpectedly became pregnant with my first baby. I was in a weird, emotionally abusive, draining, and fake relationship with the "father". In fact, when I read that little pink plus sign, we had been broken up for over a month. And I was 8 weeks and 4 days pregnant...it was, to say the least- shocking. I was alone, and terrified. What the fuck was I going to do??? How the hell was I going to raise a baby on my own? I was planning a trip to South America. I had already travelled to Australia, the UK, Amsterdam and Ireland. I wanted to see more of the world! I wasn't done travelling. I wasn't done living my crazy life as a irresponsible young woman in my EARLY 20's. For god's sake, I hadn't even turned 21 yet. WHAT WAS I GOING TO DO?
I had met Brad when I was 15. I was from a shit hole small town, and he was from an even shitter, even smaller town just south. He was 18. We were both dating other people, but we became really good friends. When I found out I was pregnant five years later, he was the fifth person I told. (First, my best friend at the time, then the sperm donor, then my parents) I remember calling him, and saying "I have something to tell you. Don't yell at me." And my best friend Brad said "Why would I yell at you? It's ok, we'll get through this."
Fast forward through a very scary, lonely, emotional 9 months, and there was Brad, in the delivery room with me, smiling at my first born child. He was still just a friend, but I had no idea what was coming. When she was 5 months old, he told me that he loved HER, and wanted to be her daddy. He said that he wanted to be my family, and that he had been in love with me since he first met me, and had been waiting for the right time to tell me. We sat and talked for a few hours. We decided that if we were going to do this, that at that very moment, we were dedicating the rest of our lives together. If we couldn't do that, we weren't going to even try a relationship. Our friendship was too important to me to lose it.
So, that's what we did. Full force. We "committed" to each other in April, had bought a house together and moved in by August, trying for a baby by September, and pregnant and engaged in October. We were married the next November. Almost everyone doubted us. His friends talked about me behind my back. Called me a gold digger. Everyone said it would never work. Pretty sure there was probably a pool going around, about how long it would last.
It was the hardest thing either of us had ever done. We thought because we were such good friends, that it would be easy. HA! He had never lived with a girlfriend, and didn't even think he would ever be married. And here he was, married with TWO babies. Looking back, I can see how that may have been a little overwhelming, to say the least. But we pushed through. 5 years later, a few hundred dollars in counselling, 3 beautiful babies, our awesome Boston Terrier "Ruby", many laughs, tears, sorrow, love, joy and pain...and here we are!
Brad is the best thing that has happened to me. I believe that our souls are meant to be together. I believe that this all happened to bring us together. Brad calls Maci his angel, because without her coming into the world, we probably wouldn't have ended up together. Brad is the definition of a MAN. He is raising Maci as his own, while the sperm donor told me to stay away, that he wanted nothing to do with her, and he was pissed that I refused to abort the pregnancy. Brad loves Maci as much as he loves Olivia and Sadie. He works his ass off to support our family, and so that I can stay home and raise our daughters. I love Brad more than words can say, and I appreciate everything he does.
SO...the point of this long winded story, is to say...that now that I am 27, with my THIRD baby- I have learned a lot. Being a few years older, I did more research, I made decisions for MYSELF, instead of just blindly taking the advice of others. I have made a lot of mistakes. I have done a lot of it right. I wanted somewhere to share my insight, and share my research. I am not here to judge anyone. I am not here to make anyone feel bad. I am here to make you question for yourself. Make you think. If I post something that is offensive to you- I am sorry that your feelings may be hurt. But I will just ask you to figure out WHY your feelings are hurt, or why you have taken offence.
I am anti-religion.
I am spiritual. I am searching, but not lost. I may not agree with you, but I fully support your RIGHT to your own opinion, and encourage you to have one.
I am pro breastfeeding.
I am terrified of GMOs and think Monsanto is a horrible, horrible company- one that needs to go away.
xoxo
-RJ
https://www.facebook.com/TheModernCrunchyMama
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