First of all I’d like to thank you to all who reached out to me personally for such positive feedback from my last post. It feels so good to be given so much love about a time where I felt I had so little. It made my heart so happy.
Like I said before the littlest things can happen and trigger a memory in my mind and feel it in my heart as if it happened yesterday. I reminisce a lot about my past to encourage me to continue to do better. I want to be in a happier mind set and although it was a painful time look back on but I’ve learned to embrace it.
The last few weeks of my pregnancy everyone was always saying “When you give birth and see your baby for the first time all the pain you endured would disappear.” Or “Nothing else in this world would matter but that beautiful baby in your arms.” Most cases yes that’s true but in my case it wasn’t fully. When I gave birth to Jhene and held her for the first time my heart felt full again. The moment Maleah met her baby sister for first time made me see real love for what it was truly meant to be. The amount of love and support my daughters and I was given made everything in that moment better. For once in that 9 months I had faith that things were going to fall into place. That I wouldn’t have any distractions from those two beautiful daughters of mine. But what happens after that? A few days spent in the hospital with endless amount of help from nurses, friends and family then you gotta go home. Gotta go back to reality and a good possible chance that I’ll be doing this alone. Yes my family was there helping. Especially my mom but I still felt alone. The pain doesn’t miraculously disappear. A broken heart doesn’t get repaired. All I did was managed the pain. I masked the pain. I put all my effort in trying to become a better mother. I wanted to be at peace with everything that was going on. I wanted things to fall in place for my daughters. I wanted them to see what a happy home was like with two parents in a relationship under one roof. I wanted Jhene and Maleah especially after what she went through with her own father that good things really happen. I wanted to fight so bad for my family.
Till this day I wonder what kept me holding on for so long. What kept me fighting for that family? Like what was it about him? Or was it just about me? Maybe it was for the girls. I had this picture perfect idea about us. I look back on the stories that my family tells me about my own parents and can’t help but think that is why I’m in this situation.
I’m sure a good amount of people know that I was adopted from the Philippines by my Auntie and Uncle and brought over to the US. My auntie is my birth mother’s oldest sister. My mom was only 18 when she was pregnant with me and hid her pregnancy from the entire family because she was so young. None of them knew until she was ready to give birth which was a little over a month too early and due to complications died during labor. As for my dad. I never met him. Never knew who he was. He never even looked for me when I left and only reached out when I was a teenager. Although growing up I had two parents who loved each other endlessly I compare my life to my birth mother and father. Is it because I didn’t grow up with my real dad why my own daughters don’t have theirs in their life like it’s suppose to be? Or is it suppose to be like this as if those messages people were sending saying no one loved me and I was a horrible person? Am I left to be disappointed by all the men in my life that is suppose to love and support me? Do I only attract men who like my real father left and didn’t give one fuck? Doesn’t this sound like daddy issues? Shit growing up I had my adopted dad, two older brothers and uncles showing me what love was. Making sure to protect me with everything that they had. I GREW UP IN A HAPPY HOME BUT WHY CANT MY GIRLS?! I STILL ASK MYSELF WHY AM I LIKE THIS?! I KNOW I DESERVE BETTER BUT WHY CAN’T I FIND BETTER!?