SimplyMum
16-09-2009, 14:15
Well, where do I begin? I take pride in how far I have come and what I have now achieved. Here is my story;
It all started in 2004. I took the first big step into adulthood- I moved out. I moved an hour away from family into the big smoke. I started working in a call centre and befriended the ‘bad boy’. He was charming, had a winning smile, rode a motorcycle and didn’t give a thought to the world, and more importantly he fancied me. We started getting to know one another, saw each other more and more as time went on. He told me that he had a daughter- Sarah- she was 4. He also told me that he was once a drug addict. He had been to a re-hab clinic and was now clean. I told him that I would like to try drugs- just to experiment and to say that I have done it. He asked me again and again if that’s what I truly wanted to do. I made it clear it was. So, we went about organising for me to try heroin. We stayed at a friends house we’re he could keep an eye on me. I thought it was fantastic. It completely mellowed me out- I felt like I was on cloud nine- not a care in the world.
Over the next couple of months, we sought out more and more, and before we knew it we were addicted. We spent our entire pay packets on drugs- also getting money from family/friends if we could. He lost his job and applied for centrelink. He would get extra money from his mum- lying to her about going to the doctors and what not. For me, it was different. Applying for centrelink was not going to happen- I had to keep my job. Stealing off my family was also not going to happen.
I also drew the line that any of this was going to have a serious impact on Sarah (although he didn’t seem to care- leaving her with his mum for weekends etc). One weekend, he promised to take her to a local theme park. When the weekend came round, he told me on the morning that he had no money. I became increasingly upset at him and told him that he couldn’t do that to a 4yr old. So, I said I’d foot the bill. The day ended up costing up near $700 for the 3 of us, but he didn’t care.
I had a few close calls. I OD’d twice, once ending up in hospital and another time- able to convince my than bf not to take me in. I also had 2 car accidents because the drugs were making my epilepsy worse.
After some months of staying out late at night and skipping work, my parents had had enough. They tried numerous things; including pulling plugs out of my car so I couldn’t start it. In the end, they sat me down and threatened me that if I didn’t stop I would not be allowed to see my nephew again. I balled my eyes out. My nephew was everything to me. It still brings tears to my eyes thinking about it. That’s it, I thought, I can’t go on. I knew I had to stop, I had to cease contact with my than bf, so I told him that I wanted to stop and I didn’t want to see him.
At the same time, I felt something odd- I had begun to put on weight and I hadn’t had my periods for a while. So I went and got a pregnancy test! BFP! OMG- what am I going to do? I freaked out! I can’t have a baby to this man! Why have I been so stupid? I decided that it would be best to abort than allow a child to grow up under his influence. I needed to have a date range scan to find out how far along I was. 10 weeks! Seeing the little bean on the screen had raised many more emotions and I needed questions answered before making my decision. At this point, I was withdrawing from the drugs- what effect would they have on my baby? Could I afford to live singally? How would I cope? Doctors assured me my baby should have no ill effects from the drugs taken. I was also assured that I would cope financially on my own- emotionally…..only time would tell. I decided, after being given all this information that I could do this, I could love this child and provide for it. So my pregnancy journey began.
I began thinking about what to do about FOB. He often didn’t have a job, or worked cash in hand to avoid paying CS for Sarah. He skipped out on weekends allot of time, leaving Sarah with his Mum to look after, bringing drugs back into the house. He advised me that because he didn’t get to pick his first borns name, he wanted to pick this one. He also said that if the child had a name he didn’t like, he couldn’t look at the child. This boy was unstable and vindictive. This was not something I wanted my child to be exposed to, so I told him that I wanted to have this child by myself and didn’t want any contact with him. After telling his Mum that I was pregnant, he told her I had had an abortion.
Going through withdrawals while pregnant was difficult. There were nights that I could not sleep, nights where my legs didn’t want to be still. It was painful in more ways than physical but worth it for the life growing inside me.
I decided that I should see a counsellor to prevent me from relapsing (although highly unlikely- the life inside me was too important). I saw 2 throughout my pregnancy. The first, I left after only a few sessions- he’s theory was that it was my parents fault. They didn’t show me enough affection as a child- I thought that was cods wallop, as much as I would have loved to have blamed my addiction on someone else- it was all my own doing. I had control and I led myself down that path. The 2nd counsellor was great. He explained it perfectly. He said that I had the type of personality that wanted proof, experience. Just because someone told me that the stove was hot- doesn’t mean I was going to believe them. He taught me that while I was a good person, I would have to take charge of my life. I was the only one in control of my life.
I decided that I needed to work right up until birth to save enough money as possible. I began working with a relative but because I could no longer drive (cannot take epilepsy meds while pregnant) I had to get a lift there and back. It was 12hr days, sometimes longer. It was hard and tiring. I would sleep in the car on lunch breaks, to and from work and go to sleep as soon as I got home of a night. Bed time was 7pm, with an early start of 5am. I was buggered.
At 9months, I went in for an anti-natal appointment and told I had pre-eclampsia and I would have to come back that afternoon to be induced. I was nervous but excited. I had it all planned out, I had my birth plan all done up, my labour bag packed, my post natal bag packed and my babies bag packed.
I went in at about 4pm to a ward with 3 other pregnant ladies- the gel was not administered until 11pm. At 40 weeks pregnant it was a real struggle to stay awake.
At about 2.30pm- I awoke with pains. They weren’t excruciating just yet and I thought there was definitely more to come. Suck it up, I thought. About an hour later, I went and sought out the nurse and explained that I was getting some cramps in my lower back. She put her hand on my belly and told me to tell her when they came again. They came, I told her. She said they weren’t labour pains and to go back to bed. I laboured in bed quietly on my own in the dark. I didn’t want to wake the other ladies as they were all in there for early labour.
About an hour after the first time, I went back to the nurse to ask if I could have a heat pack as the pains weren’t going away. She told me, they don’t have heat packs and if I wanted I could go and have a shower. So I did. The shower was bliss, but I kept it short so as not to disturb the other ladies too much. I went back to bed to try and go back to sleep.
About an hour later- the pain was worse so I got back in the shower. This time, I was in too much pain to keep it short so I stayed in there for about 30min. It was nice and alleviated my pain to no end. I swung my hips and let the water run over my back. As I said, I stayed in for 30min but had a fleeting thought that I was going to use all the hot water (haha- pregnancy brain) so hopped out. Getting my pj’s back on was a challenge- never thought it’d be so hard to bend down to my ankles while labouring. I jumped back in bed where I stayed for about another 30min. It was getting more painful and I was getting a bit noisy with all my tossing and turning.
After a while, I felt perhaps I needed to do a poo so I went to the toilet. I got my pants down and felt the urge to push, I wanted to scream but couldn’t. The tiles were so cool so I laid down on the floor- the nurse came in after about 5min and told me they were going to take me down to delivery suite. She told me to go back to bed and to gather my things. She than came and asked if I thought I could walk down the stairs- I told her, I don’t think so. She came back with a wheelchair and off we went.
We got down to the delivery suite at about 6.30ish. She midwife told me to take off my pj’s and hop up on the bed. At this stage I was pushing so taking off my pants was a fight. I hopped up on the bed and within 20min and one ‘it hurts’ as he was crowning- DS was born.
The nurses had rung my mum (my support person) as soon as I had got down to delivery suite- we lived about 10min from the hospital, but the nurses had said that she had plenty of time. Mum had taken her time in getting ready. Mum missed the birth by 10min. She walked in holding the cd player.
DS had/has had no ill effects of my naughty ways.
I often go through times where I think about contacting the FOB or even his family. I mean, he has a sister he doesn’t know about out there, and his cousins- he is missing out on so much. But the risks are too high.
I stayed with family for the first 2 years of DS’s life. I started studying when he was 4months old and just completed my associate diploma. I am due to start my degree next year and have been working full time for the past 1.5 years (part time since he was 1). We have been living on our own for the past 2 years and are loving it. I am determined that despite being a single parent- DS will still have the same opportunities and starts in life. He has been doing swimming lessons for 3.5years and dancing for 2months. He loves it and we have so much fun together. Before bed each night, he tells me that he’s my friend and I tell him that he is my best friend.
DS Saved my life.
It all started in 2004. I took the first big step into adulthood- I moved out. I moved an hour away from family into the big smoke. I started working in a call centre and befriended the ‘bad boy’. He was charming, had a winning smile, rode a motorcycle and didn’t give a thought to the world, and more importantly he fancied me. We started getting to know one another, saw each other more and more as time went on. He told me that he had a daughter- Sarah- she was 4. He also told me that he was once a drug addict. He had been to a re-hab clinic and was now clean. I told him that I would like to try drugs- just to experiment and to say that I have done it. He asked me again and again if that’s what I truly wanted to do. I made it clear it was. So, we went about organising for me to try heroin. We stayed at a friends house we’re he could keep an eye on me. I thought it was fantastic. It completely mellowed me out- I felt like I was on cloud nine- not a care in the world.
Over the next couple of months, we sought out more and more, and before we knew it we were addicted. We spent our entire pay packets on drugs- also getting money from family/friends if we could. He lost his job and applied for centrelink. He would get extra money from his mum- lying to her about going to the doctors and what not. For me, it was different. Applying for centrelink was not going to happen- I had to keep my job. Stealing off my family was also not going to happen.
I also drew the line that any of this was going to have a serious impact on Sarah (although he didn’t seem to care- leaving her with his mum for weekends etc). One weekend, he promised to take her to a local theme park. When the weekend came round, he told me on the morning that he had no money. I became increasingly upset at him and told him that he couldn’t do that to a 4yr old. So, I said I’d foot the bill. The day ended up costing up near $700 for the 3 of us, but he didn’t care.
I had a few close calls. I OD’d twice, once ending up in hospital and another time- able to convince my than bf not to take me in. I also had 2 car accidents because the drugs were making my epilepsy worse.
After some months of staying out late at night and skipping work, my parents had had enough. They tried numerous things; including pulling plugs out of my car so I couldn’t start it. In the end, they sat me down and threatened me that if I didn’t stop I would not be allowed to see my nephew again. I balled my eyes out. My nephew was everything to me. It still brings tears to my eyes thinking about it. That’s it, I thought, I can’t go on. I knew I had to stop, I had to cease contact with my than bf, so I told him that I wanted to stop and I didn’t want to see him.
At the same time, I felt something odd- I had begun to put on weight and I hadn’t had my periods for a while. So I went and got a pregnancy test! BFP! OMG- what am I going to do? I freaked out! I can’t have a baby to this man! Why have I been so stupid? I decided that it would be best to abort than allow a child to grow up under his influence. I needed to have a date range scan to find out how far along I was. 10 weeks! Seeing the little bean on the screen had raised many more emotions and I needed questions answered before making my decision. At this point, I was withdrawing from the drugs- what effect would they have on my baby? Could I afford to live singally? How would I cope? Doctors assured me my baby should have no ill effects from the drugs taken. I was also assured that I would cope financially on my own- emotionally…..only time would tell. I decided, after being given all this information that I could do this, I could love this child and provide for it. So my pregnancy journey began.
I began thinking about what to do about FOB. He often didn’t have a job, or worked cash in hand to avoid paying CS for Sarah. He skipped out on weekends allot of time, leaving Sarah with his Mum to look after, bringing drugs back into the house. He advised me that because he didn’t get to pick his first borns name, he wanted to pick this one. He also said that if the child had a name he didn’t like, he couldn’t look at the child. This boy was unstable and vindictive. This was not something I wanted my child to be exposed to, so I told him that I wanted to have this child by myself and didn’t want any contact with him. After telling his Mum that I was pregnant, he told her I had had an abortion.
Going through withdrawals while pregnant was difficult. There were nights that I could not sleep, nights where my legs didn’t want to be still. It was painful in more ways than physical but worth it for the life growing inside me.
I decided that I should see a counsellor to prevent me from relapsing (although highly unlikely- the life inside me was too important). I saw 2 throughout my pregnancy. The first, I left after only a few sessions- he’s theory was that it was my parents fault. They didn’t show me enough affection as a child- I thought that was cods wallop, as much as I would have loved to have blamed my addiction on someone else- it was all my own doing. I had control and I led myself down that path. The 2nd counsellor was great. He explained it perfectly. He said that I had the type of personality that wanted proof, experience. Just because someone told me that the stove was hot- doesn’t mean I was going to believe them. He taught me that while I was a good person, I would have to take charge of my life. I was the only one in control of my life.
I decided that I needed to work right up until birth to save enough money as possible. I began working with a relative but because I could no longer drive (cannot take epilepsy meds while pregnant) I had to get a lift there and back. It was 12hr days, sometimes longer. It was hard and tiring. I would sleep in the car on lunch breaks, to and from work and go to sleep as soon as I got home of a night. Bed time was 7pm, with an early start of 5am. I was buggered.
At 9months, I went in for an anti-natal appointment and told I had pre-eclampsia and I would have to come back that afternoon to be induced. I was nervous but excited. I had it all planned out, I had my birth plan all done up, my labour bag packed, my post natal bag packed and my babies bag packed.
I went in at about 4pm to a ward with 3 other pregnant ladies- the gel was not administered until 11pm. At 40 weeks pregnant it was a real struggle to stay awake.
At about 2.30pm- I awoke with pains. They weren’t excruciating just yet and I thought there was definitely more to come. Suck it up, I thought. About an hour later, I went and sought out the nurse and explained that I was getting some cramps in my lower back. She put her hand on my belly and told me to tell her when they came again. They came, I told her. She said they weren’t labour pains and to go back to bed. I laboured in bed quietly on my own in the dark. I didn’t want to wake the other ladies as they were all in there for early labour.
About an hour after the first time, I went back to the nurse to ask if I could have a heat pack as the pains weren’t going away. She told me, they don’t have heat packs and if I wanted I could go and have a shower. So I did. The shower was bliss, but I kept it short so as not to disturb the other ladies too much. I went back to bed to try and go back to sleep.
About an hour later- the pain was worse so I got back in the shower. This time, I was in too much pain to keep it short so I stayed in there for about 30min. It was nice and alleviated my pain to no end. I swung my hips and let the water run over my back. As I said, I stayed in for 30min but had a fleeting thought that I was going to use all the hot water (haha- pregnancy brain) so hopped out. Getting my pj’s back on was a challenge- never thought it’d be so hard to bend down to my ankles while labouring. I jumped back in bed where I stayed for about another 30min. It was getting more painful and I was getting a bit noisy with all my tossing and turning.
After a while, I felt perhaps I needed to do a poo so I went to the toilet. I got my pants down and felt the urge to push, I wanted to scream but couldn’t. The tiles were so cool so I laid down on the floor- the nurse came in after about 5min and told me they were going to take me down to delivery suite. She told me to go back to bed and to gather my things. She than came and asked if I thought I could walk down the stairs- I told her, I don’t think so. She came back with a wheelchair and off we went.
We got down to the delivery suite at about 6.30ish. She midwife told me to take off my pj’s and hop up on the bed. At this stage I was pushing so taking off my pants was a fight. I hopped up on the bed and within 20min and one ‘it hurts’ as he was crowning- DS was born.
The nurses had rung my mum (my support person) as soon as I had got down to delivery suite- we lived about 10min from the hospital, but the nurses had said that she had plenty of time. Mum had taken her time in getting ready. Mum missed the birth by 10min. She walked in holding the cd player.
DS had/has had no ill effects of my naughty ways.
I often go through times where I think about contacting the FOB or even his family. I mean, he has a sister he doesn’t know about out there, and his cousins- he is missing out on so much. But the risks are too high.
I stayed with family for the first 2 years of DS’s life. I started studying when he was 4months old and just completed my associate diploma. I am due to start my degree next year and have been working full time for the past 1.5 years (part time since he was 1). We have been living on our own for the past 2 years and are loving it. I am determined that despite being a single parent- DS will still have the same opportunities and starts in life. He has been doing swimming lessons for 3.5years and dancing for 2months. He loves it and we have so much fun together. Before bed each night, he tells me that he’s my friend and I tell him that he is my best friend.
DS Saved my life.