The days before my son was born, my family and myself went through hell and back. My aunt Barbara actually passed away from breast cancer. She had fought a long and hard battle and finally was at peace again.
I remember it was a day or two after her funeral when my labor pains actually began. I had stayed with my sister Shelly, and I always babysat my niece while she was working.
We had just moved into a new apartment which was in a better neighborhood. So at the time the house phone and stuff wasn't hooked up. I began to have some cramps and stuff but I shook it off.
Well, the following morning I woke up and had to start shaking the bunk bed to wake my niece. I made her go and get her mom's phone and I called my mother to come pick me up.
Instead of her taking me to the hospital, she actually took me to her house. I kept telling her that I was in labor and needed to go to the hospital. She disagreed and sent me to soak in the tub.
I couldn't sit in the tub longer than 5 minutes before I was out getting dressed and grabbing my suitcase. I went into the kitchen where my mother was cooking for easter sunday which was the next day. I looked at her and I told her that I needed to go. When she said no, it's just false labor pains, and that they were just going to send me home, I grabbed my suitcase by the handle and headed out the door.
I was halfway down the block when my dad pulled up and told me to get in. He would take me to the hospital if I really thought it was time. Because I was positive that it was, and I didn't think I would make it walking, I climbed inside my dad's pickup truck.
When we pulled up at the hospital's drop off lane, my dad shot me a glance and asked me if I wanted him to come in with me for support. I thought that would be weird my dad watching my give birth and me being naked, so I refused and said I could do it by myself. After all, I had made it this far.
So, I am sure you are probably wondering about where the man is that got me pregnant, right? Well, he was in the picture for the most part at this point, but was starting to be a different person once it started getting closer for me to give birth.
I had bought everything for my son myself, and what I didn't purchase I had received from my baby shower. Hell, people thought I was going to end up going into labor at Walmart, where I worked up until a couple days before going into labor.
So as I sat in the hospital getting checked for how far in labor I was, I felt so scared. I was even more scared because I was getting ready for the biggest event in my life all alone. It was not how I wanted things to go. Once the nurse told me that I was far enough dilated to have to be admitted, but I still had some ways to go before actual labor, I picked up the phone and called my mom and my sister.
I remember begging them to please come be with me and that it was time. I didn't want to go through it by myself.
They arrived and sat with me and kept me company. They really helped me to stay calm and when things were getting harder, they helped give me encouragement. Finally on April 19th, 2003, my son Nathaniel Xavier was born. It was the happiest day of my life.
He was only a couple hours of being born on easter sunday! This was the best easter gift I had ever gotten. I was so blessed. I had felt this love of a strength I had never knew growing up.
That bliss would be short lived. The day upon release I had made the decision to go back to my moms instead of my sisters where the father of my son was living. But, I knew I need someone to show me how to take care of a baby, and to help me care for myself as I had stitches and my body was super sore!
I will admit my mother really was there for me. If I needed anything at all she was the first I would turn to. She knew all the answers and all the best solutions. That is why I was so hurt when she did what she did next.
I had started to work in a strip club as an exotic dancer. I needed all the money that I could get and I began dancing as a second job. My first job was a drive thru cashier.
A couple weeks into it, I met Jason. I was instantly drawn to him. I couldn't put my finger on it at the time, but I knew there was something special about him.
I actually had began dating a jerk that I thought was stealing my money at the time, and Jason came in with a group of his friends. I remember him asking me if I had a man etc. When I had told him about the circumstances, he had mentioned that he would have already introduced me to his mom if I was his girlfriend. I remember being attracted to him instantly.
A couple weeks went by, and I began to notice Jason coming in and he would get a beer and then would go sit down and watch me but from a farther distance. So after watching him do this after awhile, I approached him and we started up a conversation and I ended up giving him my phone number.
The guy that I had been dating actually cheated on me with another dancer that was supposed to be my friend, so I was single and wanting something different.
Talking on the phone became meeting up to hang out. Jason was a gentleman and showed me a different way of things, but also at the same time that bad boy that I am attracted to the most.
I told him about my son and he had a son also and they weren't that much of a age difference, so we had a lot in common with each other.
Shortly after meeting Jason, I was ready to introduce him to my parents and my son. Let me tell you, he was really great with my son. He really treated my son as if he was his own flesh and blood child.
My parents are old fashioned people, and even though I was now an adult, I couldn't have anyone of the opposite sex ever stay the night with me, or even enter into my bedroom. So, I would pack my son up and we would head over to my sisters to stay the night.
Jason would come over and Nate was still waking up throughout the night, and he would actually get up with my son and was willing for me to sleep in while, he feed him. I admired him for stepping up to the plate and was ready at full speed to father my son.
It seemed like everything was going great and things couldn't get any better, but boy that is when things began to really start getting worse. You know that saying, when it rains it pours? Well in my case it was starting to hail and then some.
One day, I had plans to go to Jason's with my son to stay the night. I had everything all packed up in my son's diaper bag. I grabbed everything and began to head for my parents front door.
My mom grabbed me by my arm and said I could leave, but that my son wasn't going anywhere. I instantly sat everything down and we got into it. She tried to pull my son from my arms and I shoved her against the railing of the stairs.
I grabbed my son and actually ran into my bedroom where I had my own landline that I paid for. I instantly picked up the phone and dialed 911.
I embraced my son thinking that once the police arrives that I will be able to take my son and leave and I wasn't going to come back after this incident.
It seemed like it took forever for the police to arrive, because the whole time my mother was outside my locked bedroom door screaming at me.
I felt relief once I heard the police officers walk into the house. The whole time, Jason was outside sitting in his truck patently.
I opened my bedroom door for the police and began to tell them the situation. My mother interrupted and brought them in a piece of paper from the court weeks earlier. I had signed a piece of paper saying that it was okay for my mom to take my son to the doctor and she had permission to also sign the enrollment of his school when he became of age.
The lawyer had told me (it was the family attorney) that it wouldn't mess up anything with my parental rights and custody of my son.
I was lied to however, because once the police was handed that paper, they told me I had to leave the property or go to jail and my son had to stay. I started going off, kicking and screaming and fighting for my son. I felt like they were allowing her to kidnap my child and not do a damn thing about it. Jason had to actually get out of the truck and grab me by my waist and throw me into his truck and drive off, in order to save me from going to jail. I didn't give a shit if I spent a night in jail, all I wanted was my son. I would do anything I would have to, in order to get back.
That first night, I called my parents endless amounts of time even though the police warned me not to, only to not have anyone answer my calls.
I remember laying in Jason's arms and crying myself to sleep. I had the worst dreams that night, than I ever have in my entire life still to date.
I remember Jason trying to do everything and anything that he could to make me feel better and to help calm me down. He kept telling me that by morning things would get better, and I was praying that he was right. Maybe he could be, and perhaps by morning my mom would have calmed down. So, I held onto that hope and eventually after no more tears would physically come out, I ended up drifting off to sleep.
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