The Purest Love

I was at my summer student job, you know, one of those “I really need this job and please just let me have this” kind of work. It was hard, I won’t pretend it was an easy job, I had to pack chips and do hard labour, however the pay was good and the work consistent, I had a degree to pay for after all.

I had been feeling a sharp pains in my stomach for roughly 5 hours by the time 2pm rolled around and as I waited in the cafeteria for my shift to start, the pain got worse. I was ushered into the crewing office and sent immediately to the hospital - free of charge naturally. I was an emergency, a healthy young female with sudden pain in her abdominal region? Classic appendicitis. But it wasn’t, a quick ultrasound revealed, much to my chagrin, I was pregnant and this baby was coming now whether I was prepared at all or not.

Within the hour (and drug free) I had delivered my daughter, Celeste Susan Margaret. I must admit I sobbed when I saw my boyfriend holding his daughter and seeing the love in his eyes. I sobbed even more at the realization my life was no longer going to go the way I wanted it to, and I could kiss my family’s support and my schooling goodbye. I mulled around the idea of giving her up, she did deserve a wonderful life of course, and would I really be able to give it to her...?

THE BEGINNING REALIZATION

I didn’t accept her as my own until my Pere, or grandpa met my baby. I had no idea what to do, and he was my voice of reason for years, after all I am his pride and joy. When I watched the man who gave me a childhood like no other smile and break just from seeing what I had created, I knew. I couldn’t lose her, after all my Pere is 85 now and he deserves to watch his great granddaughter grow up. I talked it over with him, and he offered for my boyfriend and I to stay with him until we found a place, which we of course graciously accepted.

Matthew telling his parents was a blur of his cousins coming and going trying to prepare and help him get everything as fast as possible, meanwhile I stressed and spun at even thinking of telling my dad.

There’s one thing that you should know about my dad, he loves me, I am a daddy’s girl, but huge screw ups, they’re a no no. However after I was released from the hospital, a day before my baby as she was still on antibiotics, I trudged over to my dads house. I asked him outside and told him. My step mom came outside and I told her, she won $50 that day. Somehow she knew. They were more supportive than I thought, and honestly made me feel a thousand times better about the whole thing. So there we went the next day, and picked up my baby.

THE HARDSHIP

The hardest part of having my daughter was knowing my Grammy is not around to watch her grow up. She had unexpectantly died in January 2019, and I took it very hard. Admitting I cry often about her not being around is okay for me to do, it’s the fact that she COULD HAVE been around for my daughter that hurts the most. But me, being a spiritual person, know she is watching from heaven and helping me all she can. Especially after I gave Celeste her mother’s middle name and her own name, Margaret. (I love and miss you Grammy, it’s been hard without you, Christmas wasn’t the same ❤️.)

My mother. How do I even begin, let’s just say if you took mentally unstable, whipped it up 12 notches, added in mentally, physically, and emotionally abusive, and manipulative, tossed in with previously dating a child molester, you’ve got a basic idea of her. I refuse to allow that energy around my daughter, and that scary realization that she could take her away from me.

My mother and I have hardly a relationship at all. From the ages of 6-14 I was emotionally abused and manipulated by being told my horses (I am an international rider - podium finishes all around baby 🥰), would be taken from me and sold for meat. Or if I didn’t listen she would never let me see my father again. She would also hide food when she thought I was getting a small pudge, which in reality was me finally having a little weight on me. So I learned to steal food from cupboards to feed myself and my brother. When I was 12 the physical abuse started, and her ex boyfriend - the paedophile - was given access to me and my little brother unrestricted. As the older sister I took all of the sexual abuse, to shield my younger Brother, I did not care what happened to me, I would protect him with my life. They are no longer together after a lengthy police investigation and the man being arrested for stolen valour.

Reading above I believe it is clear why I refuse to have that around my daughter, I refuse to allow her to be controlled the way I was for years, just because she is talented and enjoys something. Periodically she attempts to slither her way back into my life. I shut that down quickly, I cannot deal with it, not anymore.

LEARNING TO LOVE MYSELF

I suppose my steps towards loving myself came quite quickly after Celeste was born. I felt much stronger than I had ever felt before, and a sense of importance. This small human needed me, I am it’s protection and care until it can care for itself at 18.

Sitting there with the outtake counsel going over everything I needed to do for my baby, I felt, actually good. For the first time in so many years I felt accomplished and proud of myself. I had a sense of purpose, other than because I HAD to. Once Celeste smiled at me for the first time, it solidified that feeling. The happiness that burst into me and filled me to the brim. I suppose further along the road there will be much harder things to deal with, especially once she becomes a teenager, but for now I cherish the feeling of accomplishment and purpose. Hopefully one day she will feel that too.