A mother, a daughter, a sister, a girlfriend, an ex-wife...... rehabs, mental hospitals, psychologists, AA and a few beautiful years into my sobriety. This is my life, my daily life.....

Saturday, December 9, 2017

#14- The great reveal...

I walked into the bedroom and braced myself on the edge of the bed. I felt sick and faint and I felt like the whole world had abruptly come to a screeching halt. I had no idea what to feel, but I knew that I should have felt more.

As a child I remember watching movies where an expecting couple is ecstatic about the news of having baby. They embrace each other and cry with excitement. Their love for each other is becoming a human being; their two lives are becoming one. They would be filled with joy and excitement of the months to come. For me this was nothing like I had dreamed it would be. This was not supposed to be my moment. This was not how it was supposed to feel. I was not supposed to be siting on that bed filled with fear and grief at the news of having a baby.

It truly pains my heart to write these next few posts. It hurts that I have to be this honest about my experience but I would be doing disservice to my blog if I did not share it in complete truth. So I will be truthful, open and fearless in doing so. I will tell my story of my pregnancy and how I felt. How my addiction robbed me of the joys of pregnancy, child birth and the first few years of my sons life.

For the following three days I cried. I woke up- I cried, I drove to work- I cried, I came home- I cried, and I would lie in bed all night and cry. I could not eat or sleep because the withdrawals from nicotine and prescriptions medications were horrendous. I would sweat then shiver, I had a nasty headache and I would lay wide awake in bed and feel these zaps shooting throughout my brain. Later I found out they are called “brain zaps” and are quite common among people coming off prescription medications, mainly anti-depressants and anti-anxiety. My body was in complete and utter shock as the toxins left my body like a rip current, violently leaving my body like an exorcism.

I was already over a month pregnant before we took that test which meant within that month my baby was exposed to nicotine, cocaine and ketamine (a/k/a Special K). On hearing the news I was pregnant, on that day in December, I quite smoking entirely. With six fresh cigarettes left in my pack, I threw them away in a ceremonial fashion. I scheduled an appointment with an OBGYN where it was confirmed I was pregnant and an ultra sound revealed I was about eight weeks along.

There were a lot of forms to fill out, questions about me and the father, questions about my health and questions about what had the baby been exposed to: alcohol? Yes, drugs? yes, nicotine? yes. I watched as the nurse read through my forms, as she flipped through each page. She stopped at these questions and I watched her closely, intently reading my descriptive answers. I was looking for signs of disappointment but there was no earth shattering moment. I knew in my heart I had to be honest, I was raised catholic, I was raised with a moral code and I was raised with love. There was still some love left inside of me and all that I could muster up I would use for these upcoming child-bearing days.

I would do this right, for fuck sakes, this was my chance to do it right.

With these answers there would be some additional testing. We would both have genetic testing and I would have to go for a fetal echocardiogram to check the condition of the baby’s heart. My pregnancy would be closely monitored which meant frequent visits to the doctor. All of which, I would comply.

The news to family and friends came with much opposition. There were no beaming smiles or outbursts of excitement. Instead there were gasps, tears and worry. Everyone was terrified. Everyones true feelings about how they felt about me would become seemingly evident. I was a drug addict, I was a complete disaster, I was broken. How could I, she, have a healthy child or be a healthy mother.

There was also, however, some relief.

After the news settled, my mother came and sat beside me and expressed her relief. She knew I would do the right thing, that this baby will be the best thing to ever happen to me. That having this child could turn my entire life around, that I could survive. That this was my second chance. I had to agree, I had to agree because just days earlier I was haunted with the considerations of picking up again. This baby was my messenger. This baby was given to me by my higher power in a firm manner just days before a relapse would begin

It is without a doubt that I would have gotten high that week, that my life could have ended up quite differently than it is today. He was placed into my darkened heart at just the right time. He would breathe new life into my decaying organs, he would nourish my decelerating brain, he would fill my quivered bones with warmth and he would ultimately save me from myself. This baby, that was no bigger than a pea, was already changing my life.

Then, nine months later, I would return to him what he had given to me: life.


  1. Profound wisdom learned in horrible reality was the gift you were given at the moment of conception.
    Just as your life was pre-planned and God knew you while you were still in your mother's womb so God knows your child and her purpose for you and for Humanity. Be blessed always.

    1. I am forever grateful for him. Thank you for sharing Kelley. Xoxo

  2. Your son. I'm sorry for the error.