Why Me?

I plan everything...down to the last detail. I'm anal retentive and slightly OCD...how did this happen to me? It's life's cruel joke.
First of all, I hate children. I've never wanted children in my life. In fact, I've made adamantly clear my feelings towards this so-called "procreation". So how am I sitting alone right now, stuffing my face with things that can't even remotely replace the comfort of alcohol, and writing a blog to a bunch of strangers?
I suppose I should start at the beginning. It was rocky from the start....

I met the "man of my dreams" about 4 months ago. It's amazing how you can insert "man of your dreams" so matter-of-factly into a sentence when you're as drunk as I was that night. But in all senses of the term, he was incredible. He was attractive, intelligent, successful, funny, sweet and charming. Ladies...if they're sweet and charming, yet single at 41...there is probably a reason. Just saying.

I spent the rest of the night, pursuing him in a drunken stupor. I'm fairly certain I was sitting in his lap at one point...on a bar stool. The night ended in a blur, but the damage was done...this man was MINE.

The only issue? He was still slightly someone else's too. I suppose it was karma....but in all fairness, he did tell me "it was over" with her. In fact, that's why he was there that night to begin with...getting over "her" by getting under someone else. And to make you all hate me a little bit less, he went into great detail over how awful she was over the next few weeks. She was physically abusive, she emasculated him and in the short time I knew him, it was apparent he deserved so much better. Enter, me.

We shared every night together...in between the 5 times he broke up and got back together with "her" of course. It seemed that she had a financial rope around his neck, and no matter how much he longed to be rid of her, it was easier said than done. He still did have feelings for her, and he needed time to grieve and bereave....but it was clear that we were supposed to end up together.

The last time he broke up with me for her...it was over. I put my foot down and went a full 5 days of my scheduled 14 day bender. To be honest, my liver just couldn't take another day. I completely cut him from my life and it wasn't until Day 16 of Life Without Him, that he showed up on my doorstep, begging my forgiveness. Remember my mention of "sweet and charming"? Damn my stupidity.

It only took a few days before we were back to seeing one another. He truly made a good case for himself. "It took being without you, to realize how much I need you in my life", "greatest love story of all time", "I'll do anything to make it up to you. I know we need to go slow and it will take time for you to regain my trust, but I'll do anything to show you I'm for real this time". He was so sexy...and so convincing...dammit!!! I should have seen through it, but I wanted to believe what I wanted to believe.

I was pregnant two weeks and one day later. Of course, it was a few more weeks before I found out.

In the meantime, he was a man of his word. Things were better than ever...the man did anything and everything to show me how happy he was with me, how much he cared, and how different things were going to be this time. I truly saw something in him...a future, love, never-ending happiness. Oh how naive I can be.

When I found out we were pregnant...which included a lot of profanity in the doctors' office...I didn't know what to do. It took two days to even prove it, as the doctors didn't seem to believe that I was pregnant...and he was in Vegas for work. It was a long 48 hours before it was finally in stone..those two little pink lines, staring at me as smugly as an inanimate pee-stick could. Life as I knew it...was over.

I took him aside, bla, bla bla..."oh, don't worry baby, we'll work this out", "I'm going to stand up like a man and do the right thing", "we'll get through this together". Then he disappeared for 3 days, returned to make absurd claims about "low sperm count", "the baby can't be mine" and other such degrading comments. That night he wastedly found me in the line at McDonald's, only to apologize profusely, beg my forgiveness and tell me how confused and terrified he was. I don't typically listen to drunk men, spouting out intoxicated mumbo-jumbo, so we went home to bed for the night instead. In the morning he seemed rather stable about the ridiculous "I love you's" and the "we don't have sex, we make love" nonsense he was uttering the night before. I could only laugh. He is quite entertaining when he consumes that much alcohol. We agreed that we would meet that night to have a sober conversation about what we were going to do.

That conversation began and ended with "you're a wonderful girl, but I have been so selfish and caused nothing but chaos and destruction in your life. I have to do the right thing and disappear for a while. I don't want this baby with every bone in my body and I've caused you enough hurt, so I'm leaving. Oh and by the way...if you abort the baby, I'll be there to hold your hand. You'll have a chance at a normal life"....how sweet of him.

So i haven't heard from the man of my dreams turned A-hole in over a week. He's disappeared from town and everyone's lives.

I, on the other hand, have gone a few rounds of counseling, have contacted every possible link to financial and emotional support and have budgeted out this bundle of joy to the last penny. I have downgraded my apartment and my lifestyle. I have begun the vitamins and healthy eating. I've done everything I possibly can to ready myself for the unready-able.

Yet, I'm terrified. I work on commission...how can I guarantee an income for my baby? I'm not eligible for both EI and financial assistance. It has to be one or the other. Isn't that crazy??? Shouldn't assistance be there to ASSIST the EI that I have paid into for the last decade? What about rent supplements? I live in one hella-expensive town and I won't even bother scaring you with the realities of how high rent is here. What do I do? How do I save? What is going to happen to my morale when I start getting fat?

My family is 3,000 km away, so I am truly doing this 100% on my own...well...not entirely on my own...hopefully you'll be following my journey!

I'll be 7 weeks pregnant tomorrow, which happens to fall on my 28th birthday. So far, it's been mind-over-matter with morning sickness. Eating everything I can get my hands on at all hours of the day seems to help. My breasts are killing me and I'd love nothing more than to just slice them right off. They also seem to be HUGE, but that might just be in my mind. I'm breaking out like mad; I feel 17 again. I'm not overly emotional yet...and the emotions I do have may be related either to hormones or alcohol withdrawl. I'm not certain which at this time. I miss coffee with every fiber of my being, although decaf seems to do the trick. I feel just a little pudgy in my lower abdomen, but I have been eating more than usual. I make frequent trips to the bathroom, yet I haven't peed my pants yet, so that's a plus. I cry at the silliest commercials...I mean, I feel REALLY bad for the little onion and donut that get shut out of the party when the man pops a stick of gum.

I am dreading the physical and emotional changes that await me. Subscribe to this damn blog!! I don't want to go through this alone!