I think I wanted to be a mother more than I wanted a baby
It was with someone I couldn’t place, someone who grabbed me like he was trying to keep me from running through his fingers like water. I only liked him liking me and I cried after
When I found out my stomach dropped but then I felt gold shoot through my veins and an angel land at my side
I had a fantasy – I think I wanted to be a mother more than I wanted a baby
I was so tired of feeling like a little girl and a waste of space, I wanted to be necessary to someone, I wanted to be responsible and for someone to flourish because of me, I wanted to be loved unequivocally and with the steel grip of nature and life
Motherhood felt like such a beautiful and sacred thing, so much more important than my pointless endeavors, which in term made me pointless
But I was a baby, probably still am a baby (I have the worst Peter Pan syndrome)
I told one friend. I caved in to reality and laid down and closed my eyes and felt myself being caved out
I had been feeling so empty, and now envisioned my body as a void or black hole, a continuous emptying, by sex, time, sadness, and now this. like more was being ripped from me even when I thought I had nothing left to lose or give
I don’t know if I’m better for it. I still feel like I’m waiting for things to mend and grow back, and grow forth, from my abortion but also from childhood – I feel like my childhood was characterized largely by fear and the last thing I want to do is repeat that cycle. I’m at least grateful I had the chance not to. Even if I go nowhere and become nothing, even if I cave in on myself, I at least want to make sure no one gets caught in my crossfire
