How I ended up being a twenty-nine year old grandmother.

The title isn’t a joke nor is it the premise of a new sitcom. It is my reality. I sit here five and a half months from my thirtieth birthday trying to process the fact that a month or so before I turn thirty my first grandchild will be born. That is not something I thought I would be planning for any time in the near future. 

I met him when I was thirteen. It was almost exactly five months until my fourteenth birthday. I was a soon to be eighth grader enjoying my summer break. He was a nineteen year old with a truck. Yes that played a big factor in the attraction. We met at the laundromat where I was washing clothes with my mom. He was Mexican and I was rebellious. Interracial relationships were not something my grandmother condoned. As most teenagers do at least once I was pushing limits and testing boundaries. The conservative Christian values that were a new regular in my life really cramped my free spirit. I would sneak to smoke with my friends, had experimented with drugs, shoplifted more times than I like to admit now. If it was “bad” I wanted to do it. This guy was the ultimate bad and I had to chase it. I started talking to him and for some reason he liked me. This socially awkward teenager. He attended church with my mom and me. After that I started sneaking out to go visit him while my mom worked. I got caught leaving school one day and the police department was called. They came to speak with my mom and me about truancy. I let it go in one ear and fly right out the other. Fast forward to January if you don’t mind skipping a couple of months of a brooding teenage girl. It was the first day back to school from winter break. School went by as normal, it wasn’t until I got out that things took a turn for the worst. Around 7pm one of his friends showed up to the house to tell us that he had been arrested several towns over. We all piled into his truck to go see what was going on. It turns out he was arrested on multiple felony offenses. Apparently his “business” involved forging documents. While he was in jail he became mean. He was constantly accusing me of cheating on him. We worked with his attorney to try to get him out into March. During this time I started getting very sick. I went to the Dr and she just said it was stomach problems and prescribed me some medication to help. About a week later I hadn’t gotten better; as a matter of fact I was a lot worse. My grandmother took me to the Emergency Room to be seen. The lady at the registration desk asked when my last period had been. When I told her it was on Christmas she told my grandmother to just take me back to my primary care doctor. Once there the Dr swore up and down she had asked me when my period was and I had told her I’d been having a normal period. It took three nurses and two doctors to determine I was pregnant. I was in shock. Yes I had attended the mandatory sex ed class at school, but it couldn’t be true right? When I told him I was pregnant he swore up and down the baby wasn’t his. His uncle eventually talked some sense into him. I was scared. Very scared. I was an embarrassment, or so I felt. We kept my pregnancy secret from most people until after June when I married him. I vividly remember bawling my eyes out the day before because I did not want to marry him. I did it because I didn’t want my child to grow up in a broken home and because it was the right thing to do in God’s eyes. Shortly after we got married we found out the baby was going to be a girl. October rolls around and due to medical concerns I was induced. At 1:20pm on October 1st this beautiful 8lb 130z and 23in long baby with thick black hair made her way into my life. She was perfect but my life was falling apart. I didn’t know how to care for a baby. I was practically a child myself. My mother took most of the responsibility of caring for Kayla. My relationship with her father soon became very violent. He started drinking a lot. I was confined to the house or my grandmother’s house. I could not be around any males, including my best friend and cousin, without him going into a fit of rage. Only a couple of months later I found out I was pregnant again. I was young and dumb. I thought maybe this baby would fix the problems we had. When I was roughly four months pregnant we moved to Mexico so his family could be part of our lives. I became extremely sick and lost an obscene amount of weight. Life continued on its downward spiral. I was treated bad because I was different. I was in a completely different world. I was a child playing adult, and terribly at that. On my sixteenth birthday I gave birth to another beautiful baby girl. This time the baby didn’t even weigh 5lbs and was barely 19in long. She had a head full of black hair. I suffered severe post-partum depression, though I didn’t know what that was at the time. I felt like I could do nothing right. Before the baby was six weeks old I had fallen pregnant again. I was petrified. Here I was sixteen with two babies under two years old. I was forced to have a chemical abortion. Shortly after that my ex decided to take a job out-of-state. He left me with those two children and no money, no formula, no diapers. I took a job teaching English in town. I ended up being offered a full-time position, but it required a weekend training seminar. I set up child care for the girls and went. When I returned home I was told I was no longer welcome at my home. Now I was sixteen, homeless in another country, no money and definitely no way to care for the girls. I made an agreement with their family to care for them and moved from home to home for five months until I returned to the US. Without the girls. I drank a lot and did a lot of drugs to numb the pain. Years went by with little to no word on how they were. Five years after I left Mexico I was contacted for a divorce. I willingly signed divorce papers. At that time I was reminded that I was a terrible mother for abandoning my children. Fast forward to last year, 2015, I get a message from a girl on Facebook telling me they are my daughter. We connected and caught up with how things have been just to find out that Kayla, now thirteen, was married. Another almost year later I find out she is five months pregnant and I am going to become a grandmother. Two days ago I was worrying about back to school stuff for my children that live with me and passing my college classes with an A and now my  world has been shaken to the core.

Not what was planned…

So my post for today isn’t writing. I decided to exercise a different creative outlet. I had been working on a post but then the ADHD kicked in and I had an infamous “oh something shiny” moment and the writing was pushed to the side for some pretty flower pictures.

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Abandoned doesn’t have to be a bad thing

Scrolling through my news feeds on Facebook a picture caught my eye. It was a metal box with a small cushion, maybe it was a pillow, inside. This picture was part of an article about new tools used by the Safe Haven project in Indiana. The first response that comes to most peoples minds I’m sure would be “That just makes it easier for irresponsible women to bail on being a mom.” Well yeah! That’s the point. We do not know what leads women to decide they cannot raise a baby, but I can without a doubt say I’d much rather she leave her baby somewhere safe; instead of starving alone somewhere, beaten, treated poorly because they caused a hardship they had no control over, or worse found dead by law enforcement.

Abandonment doesn’t always have to be considered bad. Remember those crazy dreams you had as a child to be a super hero-rockstar-actor? We all had them at least once growing up. Now some people go on to pursue those dreams, and the world appreciates each and every actor, musician, author, and real life super hero we have; but we can’t all be super famous. So those abandoned dreams lay the foundation to the lives we build. I can tell you I wanted to be a veterinarian when I was growing up. It wasn’t until I was much older and realized it isn’t all sunshine, furry snuggles and sloppy kisses that it hit me I would be a terrible veterinarian. My bleeding heart would never allow me to do some of the necessary parts of that job.   I once thought I would like to be a tattoo artist, but RA mixed in with random uncontrollable bouts of shaking would make that impossible.

If you have to abandon something don’t let it consume and control you. Use it as another block to build the you that is supposed to exist. Everything we go through is a learning experience, be it good or bad. Retrain your brain to look at life differently and I am pretty sure the bigger, and more beautiful, picture will begin to unfold in front of your eyes. Take the ugly out of the word abandoned.

Abandoned

Not the dinner table.

Disclaimer: The views expressed in this blog are solely mine. I do not claim they are correct or the way everyone should believe. I am always open to hear the opinions of others. All I ask is that if you share your opinion please share a non-biased article supporting what you say. No bashing others opinions! We can all act like adults and play nicely. That being said on to my piece.

 

Let me start by saying as long as you are well-educated on your decision I do not care where you stand politically, sexually, religiously, or sports related. I can be your friend and share a difference of opinion. I am a firm believer that life would be very dull if we all thought completely the same. I love a good debate, as long as it can remain civil and be factually based. I will be the first to admit, when presented with facts, that I was wrong. I do sometimes tend to be passionate about what I believe in, but that doesn’t mean I will refuse to see the light if it exists.

For as long as I can remember I grew up in traditional conservative Christian churches. Even before my mother started attending I would ride the local church bus with friends. When I was eight my mother started going to church. After visiting a few we landed in an accepting and welcoming church. The saying was “Come as you are.” The church was conservative Pentecostal Holiness. I’m sure we’ve all heard about the holy rollers, right? The women wore long dresses or skirts and long sleeves. It was frowned upon to cut your hair, own a TV, listen to a lot of different music, etc. It became home for several years. I loved the youth group and its leaders. Once I hit thirteen that all changed. I began to rebel as much as I could, and this led to some less than ideal circumstances. Though for the sake of keeping interest lets jump to when I was sixteen. I was living on the streets in Mexico when I met an amazing Catholic family that took me under their wing. I converted to Catholicism under their loving guidance. They treated me like family while building on my already existing Christian foundations. When I came home, a few months later, I tried to return to church with my mom. I felt like an outcast and unwelcome. At that time I started looking at different religious options online. I found a group of non-traditional believers on a website and I became Wiccan. I spent as much time as I could learning different mythologies. I lived by the Wiccan Rede, harm none do as ye will, and the Rule of Three, all energy you send out will come back to you three-fold. That worked for me until I had a spiritual crisis at twenty-two. I prayed for God to show me where I needed to be and felt drawn back to the Catholic Church. I spent the next four years trying to be the best Catholic I could be. I fell out of the Church again. There wasn’t really a reason it just happened. I met a group of eclectic Pagans and with time they became like family to me. I no longer referred to myself as Catholic. Instead I feel myself to be more spiritual than religious. I believe in a higher power, but I am not sure which religious path is right for me. I study different religions a lot and have found them all teaching the same things;
-Pray for your neighbor
-Help those in need
-Be kind and compassionate
-Be selfless
-Do not hurt others
-Accept people for their differences
-In general be a good person
I strive to do all of that already so do I really need to label myself as the follower of a certain path?

The reason I have told you all of this is so you can understand my upbringing and fundamental beliefs. I considered myself Republican for a long time. I was taught it didn’t matter their platform the Senate, Congress, and white house had to be Red. I was extremely pro-life, although I never thought abortion should be illegal; we tried that before and people still performed and/or got them, in just more dangerous ways. We’ve all watched Dirty Dancing, right? If not I recommend you do at least once. I was a card-carrying member of the Susan B. Anthony List. Which is ironic as I was also pro death penalty. I was also very pro war; as in we must take care of any threat with violence no matter how trivial, how much it may cost, or how it would affect our international affairs. Illegal immigrants, no matter the circumstances, had to be deported and all products had to be made in the USA.

Over time I started to question everything I had been told. I am still pro-life, but with conditions. I believe there are certain circumstances when an abortion is the only option available. In those circumstances I believe a woman has the right to be treated as the recipient of a serious medical procedure that she is. The procedure should be done in a hospital or outpatient surgery center not a seedy clinic that has no admitting rights and cares more about the business aspect than the health, safety and well-being of the woman. I still support the military. I just believe we don’t need to immediately jump at the slightest scary thing. There are other methods of diffusing a situation. I am in no way saying we should roll over placidly taking assaults and abuse; just let’s attempt to keep things from getting so out of hand that a war is the only option left. Another thing I am fully behind is having a well equipped and trained military. This whole selling out to the lowest bidder for gear is ridiculous. Our military personnel are grossly under paid and neglected. I believe the way to fix this problem is to be a reevaluation and redistribution of military funds. A few DOD Civilians should not be making insanely larger amounts of money than the ones actually putting their lives on the line for us. Any service member should not have to live payday to payday worrying about their families having everything they need to thrive. To the immigration issue, illegal immigrants are not the leech to American society we have made them out to be. They just want to have the same chance at a better life that we have. Children should not have to suffer the loss of one or both parents because of something as trivial as immigration status. As long as they contribute to society and do their fair share I am comfortable with them being here in the USA.
I do still believe U.S. companies need to stop sending jobs across seas to save themselves money while creating more poverty and unemployment here. We need to be concerned about each other no matter if it is just the person making you a burger at some dime a dozen fast food restaurant or the CEO of a huge company.

The purpose of me writing this is to show that just because you have always done something does not mean you must continue doing it. Voting for a Democrat does not mean you are giving up on all of your morals. Just because a candidate’s views do not match yours completely does not mean they are not the one that should get your vote. We need to take a step back and think about what is for the greater good. Not just for each of us individually, but for the nation as a whole. Is banning abortions really worth World War III to you? You never have to support abortion to want peace. You never have to support immigration to support equality. You never have to support same-sex marriage to support people being treated as people. We all want to be able to walk outside and know that we will be treated exactly the same regardless of our gender, sexual orientation, religion, race, political affiliation, etc. In order to have that we must move past the hatred, judgment, and insecurities that have been ingrained into us since we were born. We have to stop judging the masses by the actions of a few. We need to learn to love again.

I’ll leave you with this quote we were all raised on, because it has just as much meaning now as it did originally.

United we stand. Divided we fall.” – Aesop

 

Gaming.. Crocheting.. And other randomness..

I am a gamer. Yes I’m one of those types. But do not dispare, I’m not like an uber gamer. I have a few games that I really like and play regularly. One of those games is Final Fantasy 14. It is a MMORPG that is out of this world. I really have to hand it to Square Enix for all the work they have put into this game. The graphics and storyline are fricken amazing! I really recommend you play it, even if you don’t go past the 30 days of free play. 

Aside from gaming I have a couple other hobbies. I like to crochet. Though I have yet to finish a project to date. I have about five of them started. Drawing is another one. I have finished more of those than crocheting. Painting is probably one that keeps my interest peeked. Nebulae are fun to paint. Though my biggest passion is reading. I have read thousands of books since I was eight. I have a varied interest in books. I do have a couple favorite authors; Keri Arthur is my most favorite, follwed closely by J.K. Rowling. I am a big nerd what can I say. Having ADHD means something has to be very stimulating in order for me to not get bored with it very quickly. But at the same time I am hesitant to try new things. It makes for a terrible combination. 
-khb

An Introduction… Possibly with rambling

Okay so first off my name is Kimberly. Nothing really special about me. I live in beautiful Southwest Virginia. As most people know it “Hokie Nation”, but I’m not a Hokie. I am a Hoo through and through. That’s probably because I’m stubborn and don’t like doing what everyone else around me is. I work retail and event security for a living. It’s not the greatest, but it’s not the worst either. Plus I’ve met some really great people doing both. I am a mother. My little heathens are my inspiration when it comes to writing.

I am pretty new to writing as I was always afraid of putting my words out for people to read. I have been diagnosed with GAD, or generalized anxitey disorder for thos that don’t know, so my brain takes every little thing and turns it into this huge over exaggerated thing. I’m hoping that I can use writing as a way to get all the things that are stuck in my head out in the open. So if you decide to stick around it may be a bumpy ride, but who knows maybe it will be worth it?!