"Life is your birthright, they hid that in the fine print. Take the pen and rewrite it."
My “awakening” began when I was twenty years old. I was going into my junior in college. My Granny had just died, and I found out I was pregnant. People say that there is no way to know the moment you conceive- but I knew. I remember flying back to school with a friend and jokingly saying, “I’m pretty sure I got pregnant this weekend.”
I felt attached to her the minute that I knew that it was real. But that was also when the fear kicked in. I had just broken up with the Father, and to put it mildly, we were not in the best of places. But then again, I’ve never been good at break-ups. So, you can only imagine. My Mom and I had a close relationship. I immediately confided in her. She told me that things happen, not to beat myself up and that she would be there for me. Her words made me feel comfortable but talking to the Father was another story.
It wasn't long before I realized that I couldn't possibly have this baby. Not because of financial reasons, but because of the situation with the Father. Being from a broken home, I knew how this story would play out. After the fifth argument, I knew there was no way I could bring a child into the situation. She deserves better than that. I've seen that movie, and I'm living proof that it doesn't end well. So, despite this nagging feeling, I made an appointment.
As the days grew closer to the appointment, I began to imagine the possibility of life with this baby — the idea of seeing this bond grow stronger over time. My feelings started to waver. Even at this early stage, I could already feel the baby weighing in on my food choices. She was picky eater, but never made me sick, not once. The night before the appointment, I thought about my cousins who had gotten pregnant at my age or younger. I thought about the girls in high school who now have full-grown kids and thought surely if they could do it. I could do it too.
Maybe this baby would give me all the motivation that I needed. Yeah, the Father and I weren't in the perfect place- but eventually, we will be fine. I could mature. I would grow for her. I had come to terms that we wouldn’t get married, but I knew we would want the best for our child. Weighing the pros and cons, I had made my decision to change my mind. The only thing that was left was for me to tell my Mom.
There wasn't a thought in my mind that my Mom wouldn't support me. See, she had gotten pregnant at the same time, and my Granny was not happy. She didn't talk to her for a few months. But eventually, she got over it, and my Mom had me. I thought surely being in the situation she would understand. She would respect me for making a choice and be encouraging. I thought she would wrap her arms around me and say that we would get through this, and don't worry about it. But that Lifetime movie scene did not happen. What happened was much worse.
She cursed, yelled at me and told me that she wouldn't help me. She said that it was a stupid decision, and how could I possibly finish school with a kid? She told me that she was disappointed in me. That this was a big mistake and she would be there for the baby. But as far as a relationship with me-(her helping me), that wouldn’t happen. I would have to figure it out on my own.
To say that I was hurt would be an understatement. It felt like some cruel joke had been played on me. Just a few weeks ago, she said she would support me. Just a few weeks ago, I thought she got it. A paralyzing fear ran through my body. I had built up all this courage and was cut down in one phone call. I hung up the phone knowing - there was no way out of it. No matter how much I loved this baby. I couldn’t take care of it. I could barely take care of myself. I could have gone through without the support of the Father. But there was no way I could do it without my Mom, my best friend. So, I went through with the appointment.
The entire day was like an outer of body experience. I kept hoping that someone would say, “Hey, you don’t have to do this.” Or for one person to just ask me, “Are you sure you want to go through with this?” But it wasn’t like the movies. There was no savior to fly in to help me with this moral dilemma. There weren't even protestors outside of the clinic. It was just an ordinary day. The people in the client had seen plenty of girls like me before. There was no look of pity; they were doing their job. No one cared. I was screaming on the inside, not wanting to go through with this, yet I kept walking. Even as I was lying back on the table, I kept hoping something, anyone to help me. But it never happened.
When it was over, it was like I was thrown back into my body. I had never felt so alone. So, empty. I balled up into a ball and cried. So loud, that the lady came into the room to ask me if I was ok. Which only made me cry harder. I was ashamed of myself. I was ashamed of what I had just done. The woman stood there a little while longer and then told me that she could take me to the next room. It was then that I realized she didn't even care about me being in pain. She just wanted the bed.
That summer was the most depressing summer of my life. I didn't go out with my friends or talk to family. I didn't do anything. I sat in the house for months. What saved me was- school. One day, I realized that I would have to go back, and the idea of going back in that state of mind scared the hell out of me. So, I enrolled myself in therapy. Knowing there wasn't going to be anyone to save me. I had to protect myself. If I quit school now, I wouldn’t have just been giving up on myself. But my daughter and the entire situation would have been done in vain. It was after that summer everything changed. I would sit in a personal finance class and realize that accounting wasn't for me. I would then spend the next ten years trying to undo all that I did. It blows my mind to think that I would have a whole ass kid by now.
A couple of months ago, I sat down to have breakfast with my Dad, and he asked me why I never told him that I was pregnant. It was like a kick in the stomach. My Mom told him about it, and it bothered him that I didn't feel comfortable enough to come to him about it. But the truth was that I didn't even realize he was an option. I was trapped in my mind, in my fear that I didn't even consider to see if I had other options. When I got home from breakfast, I cried for my baby all over again. I realized that the wound had never healed. I just stop thinking about it. I tried to move forward, but she was always there. My pain of giving up on her was there. But as I write this letter, I realize that she has never left me. She was the one who saved me.
In astrology, Chiron is known as a "wounded healer." This asteroid signifies our deepest spiritual wound and if you're able to heal it. It will give you access to healing powers. I feel that my baby was that for me. She taught me my greatest lesson and was the single entity that woke me up to realize that my life was my own. It was through losing her that made me questions the true meaning of life. We may never know why things happen, but we have must understand that it all happens for a reason. Chiron was sent to awaken me, and because of our experience, I now have the burning desire to awake others.
We may never understand why death comes or why bad things occur in our life- but what I know for sure is that it all has a purpose and reason. It's all happening for our benefit so that we can become the highest version of ourselves. The trail- especially- the hardest one is given to mold you- not destroy you. Death is never personal and it's something that we all experience. But life is personal- and you get to decide for yourself how you plan to live. You can live your life in fear stuck in your box forever. Or you can feel the fear and do it anyway. Even if you make a "bad" choice, the universe will still rearrange itself to you back on track. Because that's the whole point of us being here. To live and live fearlessly. As Drake once said, "everyone dies, but not everyone lives," so make a choice.
The other day I had to check myself because once again, I was "waiting" for someone to save me. For someone to stumble across this newsletter and say, "Wow, I need to give this girl some money." Life isn't about "waiting" it's about listening to your intuition and creating. If you're waiting for God (or anyone) to save you- you're waiting in vain. He created us to see the infinite ways in which he can express himself. Not to have people to save.
God created us and gave us the tools we need to succeed in life. We say this so often that we've become numb to the meaning. But let me remind you: You are made in God imagine. Which means you are a God in living flesh-