Baby Makes Five : Single Mom While Pregnant

Whewf.

Today is August 6, 2023. I don’t know when this blog post will be published live + shared.

I am 38 weeks pregnant this week.

If you’re just finding out that I’ve been pregnant the last 9 months, don’t be offended or hurt: I’ve kept this little piece of our life pretty quiet and close.

The next novel of story is long. If you’d just like links of ways to support us as we get to know this new baby, here they are :)

AMAZON baby registry

Replace wish list: from fire

Venmo

PayPal

It took me dayssss to tell Kevin (Kahlil + this baby’s dad).

I took about 30 pregnancy tests (I had this pack) over the first two days, in total and absolute shock. The only person I called that early December night was my friend Nicole.

I didn’t tell anyone else for months.

Kevin and I had been in couples therapy since July… so about 6 months at that point. It was our last attempt to see if we could repair + reconstruct all the damage that had occurred the first 2 years with us, as well as if we were able to grow together on a similar mental health journey.

Finding out I was pregnant was not exciting for us, it was terrifying.

For me, because I already carried the load of the family. I was mostly on track to potentially buy a house in 2023, my business growing + flourishing, things getting in line.

January hit me hard with an “ideal client turned absolute nightmare from Hell” where I had to hire a lawyer. It rocked my confidence, shook me to my core, and terrified me in a way I hadn’t been before. I don’t know what you believe about our thoughts creating some of our reality + affecting us in ways nothing else can… but this giant hit to my bank account + heart/mind was a big blow.

I also completely tore my ACL in January.

As someone who has experienced miscarriages and ached to experience pregnancy even just once, it was a real mindfuck to find myself sitting outside of Planned Parenthood, wondering if the absolute best, most loving + wise + resposonsible thing for every single person involved (INCLUDING the baby in my womb), was to terminate this pregnancy asap.

As someone who has learned about + witnessed the absolute tragedy and lifelong long, the impacts + trauma + identity confusion, of adoption and foster care: I knew that my choices were to carry and parent OR to terminate.

The only reason I would not feel confident carrying + parenting is because I have three kids, and this economy is becoming insane.

I do not have the support of an in-home partner in any way. Groceries, feeding, cleaning, providing, activities, bed time, hygiene, hair cuts, medical appointments, therapy appointments, school sign ups, ETC falls on me. Plus all the demands of paying bills. And wanting to provide more than the bare minimum.

I do not have an ideal or healthy coparenting relationship with my ex husband, which adds layers of difficulty to my oldest two’s lives, and I want to be present for them as best as possible.

All this to say…I battled through those intense weeks of morning sickness, extreme fatigue, and weaning off my ADHD medication. I was severely depressed, feeling my business crumble beneath the weight of the choices before me, the lives depending on me, and my own healing journey.

Envisioning birthing this baby in August, right before peak business season, without an actual maternity leave where I could rest + heal + help myself and my babies transition…weighed on me in a way I cannot even put words to. It was like an impending doom: how could I possibly make this work?

I’d never had a maternity leave; I was working + kept working when we brought Sage home. I took off a week after Ira was born. And I had my first photoshoot 5 days after Kahlil’s birth —

I kept having intrusive memories of sobbing in the car before and after photoshoots, with Kahlil. Nursing him before + after, being late because of poop explosions, and wearing him all throughout photoshoots…WITH a hematoma in my vaginal canal + a healing stitched up clitoris. At that time I had a decent coparent relationship with my ex husband; having a “high conflict” coparent relationship adds immense stress to the idea of having a brand new baby on board.

17 weeks pregnant: telling the kids. Photos captured by Megan Rose Photography, edited by me, inside Apex Studio

By end of March, I knew in my deepest self that Kevin and I had run our course in attempt to be together. I think he knew too, but it’s really hard to release dreams + hopes of together, especially when you’ve worked so hard together. Healed together. Grown together.

But I had a fourth child coming and I had absolutely no excess energy to be putting towards healing + growing this partnership. I had to focus. It was time for major life shifts.

April I sold my 2017 Honda Pilot to Carmax, because my monthly bill was insane + I was upside down in the loan. I used some savings to purchase an old 2002 Honda Odyssey (highly recommend), and put an additional lump into it to ensure it was reliable.

I put in our move out notice to our property management, since it was month-to-month. The prop management added so much stress to our life + where we lived was not ideal (on the corner of a busy street, car accidents often right out front of our place).

I packed up all our things, rented a storage unit + uHaul, and did the goddamn thing.

I applied for a position I knew I was qualified for and would be great at, through Oregon Food Bank, knowing I needed consistent reliable income. But I also wasn’t about to settle for something I wasn’t passionate about.

We moved in with a family member for a short 2 weeks, I ended up needing to pay another lump sum out of my quickly dwindling savings account.

That living situation ended quickly.

End of April I moved us into a small apartment complex that is a huge relief, helping me get myself back on my feet. It’s a program and I was overwhelmed to join it, because there are a lot of rules that trigger Christian Trauma. My kids have loved living here because of the community aspect of apartment complex living.

Anyways, all this time I’m out here pregnant, terrified about how I’m going to do this damn thing, but made the decision I AM doing it, so time to get focused.

I kept my midwife clinic providers + mental health provider in the loop and up close, advocating for resources and to ensure I was getting the mental health support I needed. My kids deserve the whole world, and if I am not managing my own stress and accessing resources together, then I feel I am not doing what I should be.

Beginning of May, Fresca V Photography did some sweet family photos of me + my boys up at Cascade Locks. I was 25 weeks pregnant. It is WILD to me how different my body is this pregnancy:

May 31 on my way to a long branding photoshoot I got a call that our apartment complex had caught fire and all was likely lost.

June 1 I was stopped at a construction stop sign behind another car, when I glanced in my rear view mirror to see a car coming straight at me, seemingly full speed. My ACL I’d been working to rehab (while I waited til I could do surgery) was reinjured, my car I just bought + poured chunks of savings into totaled, and the beginning of a long Traumatic Brain Injury began. I was 29 weeks pregnant.

I was offered the position at Oregon Food Bank, I cried and accepted it. I’d planned to begin working just two weeks later, but my TBI symptoms were so extreme, I couldn’t. That position is waiting for me when I’m able to join.

Kevin and I and Kahlil had some maternity photos done by Meg out at the coast…and they are annoyingly good.

There’s something about Kevin and I where we have a chemistry I’ve never experienced. There will forever be a grief there, that we simply cannot be together in that way.

In the last few months I FINALLY legally changed my name. Read about that here. But I did not want to have to go through this process for THREE of us. Kevin is down to hyphenate baby’s name. (Changed my name post #1 / Changed my name post #2)

This is my last pregnancy. I am cutting my tubes out. I had always hoped for four kids, but not exactly in this way nor at this time. I had hoped I would be in a place and available to adopt again, as a child needed. Which..one day I will step back into fostering. —probably when all these kids are in high school.

ANYWAYS. I really wanted to document everything. It’s been a really challenging pregnancy and year all around for sooooo many reasons, far more than has been listed out here. But that doesn’t mean I and this baby don’t deserve to document ourselves, our journey together, and my body changing.

Fresca V Photography did some studio boudoir photos for me at one of my favorite studios! Indigo & Spruce in NE Portland. I was 34 weeks pregnant.