At this point, I had avoided morning sickness, but I was getting stressed out about the reality of my situation in terms of work and finance, that I was a walking zombie, averaging about two hours of sleep a night.
I made enough money to live the Los Angeles lifestyle I was accustomed to, but my finances wouldn’t exactly support Leah-plus-one in the same manner. The doctor’s bills were already starting to pile up, and with my lackluster insurance plan, it was clear that this pregnancy was going to cost me over $10k. There was also the technicality of my freelance work status, which wasn’t going to provide me with maternity leave, and I didn’t exactly have family close by who could help me out with childcare, nor could I afford to hire a nanny, so I would be stuck dropping my newborn child off at the baby kennel early every morning, sitting in traffic driving to and from work every day, and spending my evenings up all night in my cramped and loud apartment. I was going to be that single mother.
“You need to stop stressing out,” friends, who had clearly never been in my predicament before, would tell me. “Your baby can feel everything.”
It was suggested that I speak with other single mothers who had walked this path before me, but that turned out to be more depressing than helpful. Though they loved their children, most of them were noticeably bitter about their baby daddies and were more interested in discussing all of the sacrifices they had made for their child and the legal battles with their exes, than inspiring me with their success stories.
I tried to talk to my doctor about my situation, but she didn’t seem to have time to deal with my blood work, let alone my emotional trials and tribulations. I was paying top dollar to see this woman, but spending hours in the waiting room filled with couples, only to get about 10 minutes of quality of time with her, where she would briskly tell me everything was fine.
I had never felt so alone in my life and not my faith in God, the support of family and friends nor my best thinking was easing my stress and anxiety about the stark reality of single motherhood.
Part 5: How My Pain Taught Me to Change