My pregnancy was rough, physically and mentally taxing. I had been having semi regular contractions for several weeks. I was chronically constipated and severely anemic. Time couldn't move fast enough to get this over with. Even more so than when pregnant with Calvin, I didn't know problems until this pregnancy.
I was placed on modified bed rest moving into July. My paycheck was suffering horribly, and I was hardly employable at any other company. At least Calvin was on his summer visit with his dad, which meant I could keep my feet up and take warm baths to soothe the contractions.
The only light at the end of this tunnel was the potential adopting couple. They would be there to take over so I could get on with my life. Continue with my life the way I had planned it, or as close to my plans as possible. My plan for an only child, I was going to start college, get a better job. This pregnancy was standing in the way of what I wanted.
I was Facebook friends with the couple and communicated regularly, the wife and I texted at least weekly. They were slowly becoming my only support due to this big secret I was carrying. Literally carrying. Family either didn't know, didn't support the decision or were indifferent and left me to my devices.
As if I didn't have enough stress on my plate, I had to pick my son up from summer visit early...three hours from home...at a CPS office. For his privacy I will not speak of any details of his ordeal.
Affording private child care was challenging to say the least. Taking him to work with me was definitely not working out. I lost my job before it was all over with. I already felt hopeless, this was digging a hole to hell.
The weeks ticked on and D-day was approaching. First was Calvin's birthday, the whole week centered around him as the following week I would be in the hospital. My perfect plan would take place with my new lifelong friends.
This is where I will pause...