I'm ok with single parenthood. I like it. It's easier than it was before.
I'm ok with single pregnancy. Would be nice to have a back rub now and then, someone to fetch craved substances at night, someone to feel the kicks in bed. But it's ok.
I'm ok with single childbirth. Won't be easy, will be done. No choice there.
But... but. I have a friend, who had a traumatic first birth, and is dreading her imminent second. She has a decent DH, really proud of her, supportive of her, there for her. He, and everyone else, tells her she need not worry. She is loved and supported and will be fine.
Last night I looked at photos from the aftermath of my son's birth. There we are: DH, DS and me, all curled up on a bed, looking tired and naive and proud and happy. 'D'H has since proved a lying, cheating, abusive arse. He ruined my second pregnancy and has recently left me during my third. There will be no cosy family portrait this time. There will be no hand holding, no 'proud dad' phone calls, no rushing back for visiting time.
Meanwhile I have to watch the sheer love and pride between my friend's DH and her. It is killing me. Why? I want her to have this, of course I do. This is really wrong to be jealous of a fellow woman in distress, and I know it. I am just so, so sad that no one is going to care the same way about me.
I need to stop this.
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So it's dawned on me. I'm actually having a baby on my own.
9 replies
FromHereToNextTuesday · 23/03/2013 18:16
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