You'll Always Be My Baby

When I was 18, I was told I'd never be able to have kids. That's the most heartbreaking thing a young woman could ever be told, when all she's ever wanted is to be a great mother one day. I looked into many options, but because I was so young I only did the research, and never went any further than that. Turns out, the doctor was wrong.

When I was 24, I was seeing this guy—let's call him Mark. Mark and I were pretty good friends when he finally convinced me to give into my feelings for him and we spent such an amazing summer together. But that's all it ended up being. A summer fling. I'm not going to lie, it hurt a little after the summer ended and so did we.

A little while after things between Mark and I had ended, I found out I was pregnant. Mixed emotions ran through my head. Mark had always said he was positive he could never have kids due to excessive alcohol and drug abuse in his younger years, but considering he had been the only man I had been with in about 6 months, I knew it was his.

I tried to tell Mark on multiple occasions, but every time I brought the subject up, he would get all defensive, saying he didn't want to talk about it because he's always wanted to be a father and knew he couldn't. An ex girlfriend of his led him to believe her son was his until the little boy was 5-years-old!

Mark and I could barely hold a conversation for longer than 5 minutes without it somehow turning into an argument, and most times when I would text or call him to try to tell him, he would just ignore me. Then I heard the news. Mark and his new "friend with benefits" were pregnant. So now I really need to tell him—whether or not he wanted to be a part of our child's life he still deserved to know. By the time I was 6 weeks, I miscarried. I was more devastated than I could ever attempt to put into words. My heart had shattered into a million little pieces. So whether it was the wrong decision or not, I decided to not tell Mark about the pregnancy all together.

There were a few times when he and I would have a slight conversation and I'd feel like I should have told him, but this was three years ago, and I still have yet to tell him. His daughter is beautiful, and his life seems so full of love and happiness now that he has his little girl. I was, and still am, afraid that if I told him, he would have been as heart broken as I was.

Fast forward a few years, I am now 26-years-old. Last year, I started dating an amazing man, the love of my life. Let's call him Teddy. He supports all my hopes and dreams and is always in my corner whether I'm right or wrong in a situation. He knows all about Mark and the miscarriage. I told him all about what happened before him and I started dating. A few months into dating, I found out I was pregnant again. After what happened before, you could imagine the excitement, along with the terror that went along with seeing the two blue lines on the pregnancy test. But just to be sure, I bought a second test. When that came out positive as well, I knew I had to tell Teddy.

Now, Teddy had already told me before we started dating that he wouldn't mind starting over (he already had a son who was 13) if he met the right woman. But at one point he also told me that he was considering getting a vasectomy, so I wasn't exactly sure how I thought he would react to the news. I didn't know how I was going to tell him the news, either. Do I do something cute? But instead, I panicked. Teddy came home from work a few hours after I had taken the second test, and instead of coming up with a nice, cute way of telling him the news. I told him I needed to talk to him, completely blurted out that I was pregnant, handed him both tests, and started to cry. Teddy, being the man that he is, just held me as I cried and told me he loved me no matter what.

I made a doctor's appointment and went for the first ultrasound. Teddy came with me, and as we got to see our tiny human's heartbeat on the screen, I fell completely in love. Teddy told me when we got home that night that he didn't want me to keep the baby. I felt the Earth shatter underneath me. I thought I was heartbroken when I was told all those years ago that I couldn't have a baby, but this was a whole new level of pain for me. The man I had loved didn't want to have a child with me. When I told him that an abortion was not an option for me, I also told him that if he wanted to leave, I wouldn't be angry, but I also wouldn't keep it a secret from his family and if they wanted to be a part of the baby's life, I would welcome them with open arms. His response? "I love you, and I plan on spending the rest of my life with you. So if that means that we're having a baby, then we better start planning and saving money." All was right in my world again.

Fast forward again, 9 months later. Teddy and I never found out the gender of our little bean. We wanted the surprise, but I must admit it was hard, the not knowing. But after the LONG 9 months, and being a week and a half overdue, we had a beautiful, perfect, big, healthy baby girl.

As I type this story out, I sit on the couch, looking at my beautiful, now 4-month-old daughter sitting in her swing. Teddy, sleeping after working a long night shift, and our son (my stepson) is leaving for school, I find it kind of funny how things tend to work out the way they're supposed to.

I couldn't be more in love with our little family, or how my life has turned out. But every single day, in the back of my mind, I'm always wondering who my first child would have been. Would he have been a handsome little boy who loves sports, getting dirty, and bugs? Or would she have been a perfect little princess, who loves animals, the color pink, and shopping with her mommy. Unfortunately, I will never know who that little one would of turned out to be, I can only realize how much more blessed I am to have the beautiful little girl sitting next to me, and love her that much more.