Wednesday, October 21, 2009

So many Questions

So I found out that I was pregnant.

And I have so many questions. Mostly it's about the pregnancy itself. And the time after my child is born. I talked to my best friend about this and she said:

"You are a babysitter! You're lookin' after kids for years now. You know what to do."

Huh. Never thought about that. I started babysitting when I was 13. I don't wanna sound arrogant or something, but I am a really good babysitter. Kids seem to love me the moment I step into a house. It's a bit weird sometimes.
Anyways, my friend is right. I know how to handle kids. BUT, those kids weren't my own.
This is an important fact for me. Don't get me wrong, I never, NEVER hurt the kids I babysat on purpose, nor did I teach them stupid things. Never! But there is this this thought in my mind that says: Would you do the same with your own child?

I just don't know whether all this experience is enough. I don't know what kind of mom I'll be.

I don't know anything.
I'm scared.

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Baby time

A few weeks ago, my fiancé told me that he wouldn't mind starting a family.
I didn't know what to say. I always thought that men don't want children too soon.

Yeah, my picture of a man is very old-fashioned. An unmarried man likes to party with his friends, not looking after children. I know, this is a cliché. But it's kinda stuck in my head.

That is why I was so surprised that my fiancé told me about his desire to start a family. He is a really good man, I don't have any doubt about this. He's always reasonable and he's rarely acting childish. (Imagine a typical teacher. That's pretty much how sexy M. is like).
I thought about kids frequently, but now that there was a real plan (or at least a wish) it scared me. I don't know how it's like to be responsible for a little human being. I mean, this is something BIG. I don't know how to be a good parent.
What is a good mother like? Strict? Or not strict at all? Or....or....or....
I had so many questions, but at the same time I knew that I wanted this, too. I want to start all this with him. It's him, he's Mr. Right.

So, I stopped taking the birth control pill. My doctor said that it would probably take a few months until I'd be pregnant. Fine with me.
We didn't start to do weird Kamasutra things. know, normal stuff. All was good.

Eight days ago I thought: "Oh no, tomorrow my monthly present's gonna arrive. Damnit."

It didn't. No signs of the red Lady.

Hmmm. Doctor said this could happen, since I stopped the pill. She said my hormones would probably be on a rollercoaster for a while.
Third day: red Lady wasn't here yet. I got a little nervous.
Seventh day: red Lady nowhere to be seen. Ok. Went to the pharmacy to buy a test. It took me two days to finally do it. Two days until I got my shit together. (Am I just a real sissy or did anyone of you too had this...fear?) 
Anyways, this afternoon I made the test. I was alone at home. 

It took 4 minutes until I had the result. 4 long minutes. I paced around in the bathroom, like an idiot.

To make a long story short (I know, this story already is long...), here's the result I got:

I guess it's baby time.

Wednesday, October 7, 2009

14.02.1968 - 6.10.2009

Yesterday my uncle died.

Diagnosis: Acute Leukemia

He leaves two children behind, Jess (13) and Yves (11).

Have you ever had to say "Your dad has passed away two hours ago" to two kids who were coming home from school, laughing because they had a funny day?

It's not a good feeling.

I never really believed in god. It's just not something I can believe.
I know, many people are gonna hate me for saying this, but my uncle's death is enough proof for me.
If there really is a god, why would he want to make two innocent kids suffer?!
One of the religious people in my school said: "It might be kind of a test, something god needs them to go through. Because it's god's plan."

Yeah...what a shit-damnit-super-idiotic  wonderful plan.

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving much advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a gentle and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares." 
                                                                                                                           Henry Nouwen