The Beginning…

Letters To My Son

 

Hello my little love!

I’ve been mauling over how to start this, but the answer was in front of my face (as always)

So my first story is about your beginning.

Contrary to the lovely story I tell you, I figured I’d tell you the real stuff. P.S on here, I will always talk to you as if you are my age (22).

So there I am 17 years old, just passing all the bullshit of adolescence, my life is finally stable and things are looking up kinda.

I’m attending Glendale High school as a junior I think, while also dating your dad. I live at my grandma house with Moy and Annette. Your dad is currently at Pima Community College in Tucson. Living with his best friends (my cousins) and playing basketball. We see each other sparsely when he comes down to visit but talk constantly on the phone.

So one day in January 2012, I’m relaxing in bed watching MTV having faked being sick to stay home. I am currently 115 lbs, lightest I’ve ever been, clinically anorexic and I notice this bump of pudgy right under my belly button. My first thought was damn I need to do more sit-ups, Teen Mom comes on, (horrible show don’t watch it lol) and I get a wave of panic. I look down at this pudge and immediately grab a $10 and walk a mile to the Wal-Mart down the street.

I buy the cheapest 3 pack of pregnancy tests and go straight to the bathroom there.

Two pink lines Bam.

My very. very. very. first reaction was a smile. I giggled. then cried happy tears.

The 5 steps it took to walk to the sink was pure bliss. Then the panic set in and all the other shit load of emotions and questions I had for myself.

I spent the rest of that day at my best friend Nora’s house spread out on her couch thinking up ways to tell everyone. Munching on potato chips ( my craving food)

About a day later I told your dad over the phone. I didn’t mean to that was probably a shitty way to tell him, but your dad knew somehow as soon as I told him to come into town that we had to talk. He wasn’t shocked, and responded sweetly with what do we do now.

It never crossed my mind not to have you. You were all I wished for since I could remember.

Now having a kid at 17 is really stupid. Me and your dad were the million to one odds. We have our shit but fuck man, we love each other. We worked out ( so far as I can tell anyways haha) your almost 5 now and were still here.

But its hard, we can’t give you everything we want to, were not in the house we want to be, were not even in the state we want to live in forever. We both don’t even know what job we want for the rest of out lives. So please avoid all that till you’re at least 27. Mid to late thirties if you can. Figure everything out else first because trust me its easier that way.

Fast forward to 4/20 lol its Toker day and I’m 20 weeks at the hospital about to get an ultrasound. Now, up until now, since the moment I found out I was pregnant I KNEW YOU WERE A BOY… but in the hour it took to lay on that table I was convinced I could be wrong and you were a girl lol Thankfully you are indeed a boy.

Some how knowing the sex triggered everyone to see you as a real life person. Moy cried and hugged your dad for breaking the all girl streak in the family. My dad forgave your dad for knocking me up in the first place. And your dad went to his car to cry it out, probably thankful you weren’t a girl.

Honestly dude we were nowhere near excited or prepared for a girl. I always imagined you as a boy. We had your name picked out about a month or so after knowing I was pregnant. It was tied between Elijah and Isaiah, but your dad had a dream about meeting you as a teen and your name was Elijah. I hadn’t told him my name options yet so we agreed on Elijah out of respect for the weird eerie coincidence.

My pregnancy with you was easy I think. Your dad will probably tell you I was a bitch and a half the whole time, I may have been lol. First trimester nausea was constant but never had all the throwing up people complain about. Second trimester was cool I slept literally all fuckin day. Third trimester I was SO itchy your dad was constantly smothering me with lotion. I craved pepperoni so bad I was eating bags and bags of it, that and Caesar salad.  I HATED bananas even the color yellow made me sick. Never did the whole ice cream or pickle thing.

I remember your dad would lay on my tummy and you would kick him in the head, where ever he moved you shifted just to kick him again. You’d constantly pinch something internally against my ribs, shit hurt but you are a giant so its expected. I went through the nesting phase and literally painted and set up your crib over night by myself because I was crazy and couldn’t wait for people to help me. Your room was teal blue, with black and white spots above your crib.

What else can I say kid,

We loved you. right from the beginning.

 

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