I rarely ask for help.  I rarely will admit defeat enough to realize that I even NEED help.  I suppose it’s prideful, but I don’t like to admit to that kind of weakness.

I feel like today, I am officially raising my hand.  I’m feeling lost and very alone in some decisions that I have to make.  The last thing I need or want right now, is to be alone with my thoughts.  I’m in this strange stage where the last thing in the world that I want is to be alone or to be given space.  T is the kind of guy who needs his alone time and space, so I feel bad asking for more of his time.  I hate to think of myself as a needy or clingy kind of girl.  And because he’s the type to need his space… he doesn’t fully understand what I mean when I asked him to check up on me.  I explained where I was at, and did my best to help him understand that this week, I could really use his attention and time.  He promised to check on me, but I don’t think he really gets it.  Oh well – I suppose this is one of those learning curve kind of moments.  At least I’m doing fairly well with communicating.  We’ll get there. I’m grateful for what time I get and even more appreciative of how affectionate and sweet he’s been this week.  Thankfully, the bro and his girlfriend have recognized that in me and have kept a very close watch over me in the last couple of days.  My appreciation for them doing that is immense.  I booked an appointment with a counselor.  She specializes in a few things that I know I need to work on.  Self esteem being one of them.  I wish the appointment was this week.  Monday feels very far away.

In the past couple of days – I’ve gotten into some interesting conversations with a few people in my inner circle about a subject I’ve never broached before.  I tend to avoid subjects like religion and politics with friends.  Why go there?  But in the last couple of days – a new subject has come up.  Abortion.  It’s amazing what you learn about people when these topics come up.  Hell, it’s amazing what you learn about yourself.

I’m pro-choice.  Which – I should add, that means I believe someone has a choice.  They can choose to continue a pregnancy and they can choose to end it.  CHOICE being the key word there.  For me personally, I’ve always chosen life.  But that choice always came with a cost.  I chose to continue the pregnancy with Ben and my choice led to a grown man destroying himself.  But I also had a different kind of choice.  I had to choose to turn off the machines and give up on my son.  I had to sign a paper telling the doctors and medical staff to not save his life or work on him further.  I then had to hold him in my arms and watch and listen to him as he took his final breaths.  It broke me.  Not sure I’ve ever really admitted that fully.  I do a lot of posturing about my strength and how I watched everyone else crumble.  I rarely admit to the fact that inside – I died that day too.  Me – one of the most stubborn people on the planet, gave up on one of the few people in my life who I should NEVER give up on.  My child.  Because of this – I don’t think I could ever go through with an abortion.  No judging from my end on those who could or do – I just think the guilt and shame and depression would suck me under and I’d never break free again.

BUT – all of that said – I know for a fact that I also could never go through a pregnancy like the ones I’ve gone through in the past.  Where I’m alone in wanting to bring that child into the world.  Where every joy and every milestone is ignored or goes unnoticed or uncelebrated.  People say it’s a woman’s choice because it’s her body – and yes – that is true.  But the choice a woman makes can make or break a situation.  In the past – when my ex asked in his own way for me to abort a pregnancy – I triumphantly would declare HELL NO or FUCK OFF.  Were I to be in that kind of situation now, with the man I love,…if he wasn’t comfortable or felt it to be unwise, I’d find a way to deal with it and likely give him what he wants.  Not sure I’ve ever loved a man THAT much before.  I mean – yes, I’d be heart broken if he wasn’t excited and ready to take that leap off the parenting cliff with me, but it’d be better knowing that sooner rather than later.  I love my kids, I love being a parent.  The unconditional love you feel and experience when you hold your child for the first time.  It’s indescribable.  And I’d love another child.  A little girl.  Maybe someday, it’ll happen and maybe not.  But I know me – I refuse to ruin a man’s life by chaining him with a child he doesn’t want for 18 years.  That the idea of a pregnancy alone is so horrible, that I’d abort and find a good counselor and fight the depression, the guilt, and the pain just to make that man happy.  Why?  Because I feel I can take the pain.  I’ve already experienced the most incredibly painful thing in the world… how bad could it be? The bro thinks my opinion is nuts.  That a man should man up.  Accept it and be there, or don’t and bugger off for good.  He got angry with me over my opinion.  Saying that if I ever got into that type of situation… that he’d hope that I’d do what is best for ME, not the man.  He went on and on about how it would speak volumes about a man if he allowed me to put myself through the emotional turmoil of ending a life again.

It leaves me curious – dear readers.  I know it’s a taboo subject, so please don’t think me rude for asking – but what are your thoughts and opinions on this?