I’m not sure what hurts more...
Have you ever looked at a picture and been so overwhelmed with emotion that your heart literally ached?
I wanted a boy. At the time, I already had one boy, so I knew what to expect. But that was not really the reason.
Pregnancy really played a tole on my mental health. Since high school, I’ve been roughly the same weight. When the extra pounds started coming I got in a mental funk.
Those 40 weeks crept by, especially in the moment. I gained 41 lbs over those 40 weeks. (Wow, a pound a week! -- Yikes!)
One conversation that held so much weight. So much hurt. So much sadness.
Well, I’m 27 years old and no longer have that relationship to crawl back to, sooooo…
The physical abuse stopped once I threatened to fight back. The shaming, the degrading, and the criticizing never ended. 27 years later I was given my reason.
It is a term I have heard him use to describe himself more than once.
“I couldn’t do it, I’d get too attached.” This is the single greatest excuse I have heard as to why people claim they aren’t fostering.