Rough draft/my pregnancy story/I'm still healing but to write this much makes me happy that I actually could without crying.

I'm 36 in October of 2021. One week before I found out about the pregnancy my husband asked for a divorce. Meth had ravaged our lives and made me hate who he had become even more than the 3 years I fought in everyway to help him find recovery. All I knew was this baby was meant to be here. 

I went to shelters and programs, I went from having everything going for me to being like a baby myself, but dropped kicked out into the wilderness. I was so codependent I had never even taken the trash out before. He was all I knew since I was 19. I have 2 sons grown and I never imagined I'd start over, especially not a single mom. I was at my bottom, I had prenatal depression on severe levels. I was hospitalized twice. I just couldn't get out of bed I had fought so hard for all those years I needed someone to fight for me. Instead everyone walked out (other than my mom) even my own father. My husband was convincing my family I needed to be committed to a hospital to hide the abuse I put up with just because I was scared to be alone.

My first shelter I just was laying there and cried for days I missed home. I came crawling back to a warm body without a soul. I tried another program I made it 30 days and it was 6 months long. I was crying non stop there also. People couldn't handle it, I couldn't handle it. My hormones made me even more sad than I already was. It made me question my choice to choose life. Everyone thought I was crazy for it. But I named him Sylas, bondage breaker is what it means. The story behind his name is amazing. I knew a baby wouldn't fix my life only make it more difficult and especially not fix my marriage. BUT I knew he was created for a reason he was brought into this world to give me the strength to break generational curses. I never want him to experience hurt. My younger son watched me fight for all those years and even he was exhausted from the fighting. The crazy part is before meth my husband and I never argued I never looked at his phone and never questioned where he was. That has been the hardest part to grieve someone still alive, especially when you had way more good years than bad. But he's too far gone I have no idea where his bottom truly could be. 

All I knew was I'm getting closer everyday to the due date and no one to help with a baby shower. I was living a nightmare. I prayed for help for the weeks. My mom shows up and her and her husband asked me to leave by old life behind and live with them. I did, all the years I lived in that house and all I wanted to do was burn it to the ground. I gave up all material things except clothes and few items. Something had to happen, but you have no idea what codependency can do to someone. I still don't understand codependency on a deep level I'm working on it in therapy to this day. I just know I couldn't go without my fix, my husband. He would lift me up just to tear me down after he used my body when it was my soul dying to be fed by a love that was no longer there. I'd sneak off every chance I got knowing my mom loathed it. I'd come home a wreck every time. Then my step dad started this punishment system where he wouldn't speak to me. And all I wanted was love so badly. I know I was VERY difficult to love since all I did was cry and cry. I swear people actually asked if I enjoyed crying, like no freaking way! I wanted my life to rewind before the drugs and put my family back together. Everyone else usually drinks through a divorce even some of the best Christians I've met. And here I am just raw dogging life without a pacifier other than my husband's sweet words in between. I craved the touch, the fake love even though it was poisonous. I would sit in my car and scream till my voice box would break. I knew it was bad but it was my only release. Knowing God loved me I couldn't understand why He would allow this much suffering ...I now know

I gave birth in a swift c section the doctor had to go on vacation, I slept through so much I hardly remember. They accidentally gave me my medication wrong and I was out of it. He wouldn't eat so they sent him to Akron Children's hospital. I had instantly felt like my old self and ready to care for my beautiful boy. Then the riots happened, I was all alone in a huge city. And right outside the Ronald McDonald house is tear gas bombs going off all night. I suffer from PTSD. I went into a spiral. I tried going home for a couple days but I missed him and came back and saw the people with guns and cops everywhere. I didn't feel safe at all. I put myself back into the hospital where my psychiatrist worked and they said it was postpartum. I was in psychosis by the time I got to the hospital. Then CPS comes in because no one is here for this baby. Lord knows I wanted to be but I was very ill. They showed no mercy and took him to foster care. He's now back with me but they were right I needed help bad. I wasn't ready. 

Now I've worked through so much of the trama. I live with a loving family that took me in. I'm going to go back to college to be a paralegal and eventually hopefully a lawyer. I want to help women like me get out of bad marriages and fight corrupt CPS workers. There's so much more to the story but this is my rough draft. I need to pick out the important things and be more inspirational instead of confessions of a non independent women. That's actually what I should title this.