Wrote this in Woohu. For Katie. I suppose I'm going through a guilt cleansing time.
So Kelly's smoking pot now. I suppose I knew already. I started to get that deep feeling of disappointment in my gut but I made sure to stop myself.
Being disappointed in people just doesn't make sense anymore. I don't see why I should be, it's Kelly for goodness sake. She's my friend. I support her in whatever she does, whether I believe she should do it or not.
And it made me think about my own disappointments in myself. So I finally decided to type this up. It has been sitting in my notebook for a long time.
I'm sorry, Katie. I love you. I just really want you to know what's going on.
At the end of May/beginning of June 2005, I had not had my period yet. Well, it was late by about two weeks.
Then it was late by three.
Nick and I were a little concerned. I was a little less upset, or maybe I had just convinced myself or pretended that I was less so. We hadn't had sex. We'd messed around quite a bit but never had progressed any further. Nick thought maybe something "was left behind" or went wrong and without realizing it, we had.
Whatever it was, one day we decided that I definitely maybe might be pregnant. We were quiet around each other. I remember riding in Ben's car somewhere. I think it was up to Cedar or something. Nick and I didn't talk. I just stared out the window trying not to cry and trying to convince myself that we were wrong and that everything was okay. Ben didn't dare break the silence. I think he knew somehow.
I don't remember why we didn't just get a pregnancy test. Maybe we didn't have the money, maybe we didn't have the house to ourselves, or maybe we were just afraid. I don't remember. Nick will have to remind me.
Eventually, Nick said that we needed to have a plan. I told him that as pro-choice that I was, I was not going to kill my baby. We'd have to put it -- at this point I had adamantly refused to call our baby an "it" -- my baby, our baby, up for adoption. We looked around the internet and kept our eyes open for good adoption agencies. We found a nice Christian one that we agreed on if the time came. It gave the choice of having an open or closed adoption and free counseling afterward.
I wanted an open adoption. I wanted to know my baby and my baby's family.
Nick kept reminding me that it was our baby. Ours.
Coming home from Ben's house one day, or maybe going to, Nick and I stopped by the dam and talked. He'd been voicing his concern that he didn't think I'd be emotionally able to handle the fact that I would have to give up my child. Up until that point in time, I thought I'd be okay. I thought I could do it.
But as we sat there, the final front of what I was getting into hit me.
I'd connect with my child ("our child") for nine months then pop it out and someone would snatch him or her up and take them away forever. I'd cry on their birthday. I'd just be that strange woman who came to visit every once in a while, if I was allowed even that.
I cried a lot, sitting there in Nick's car. I told him that I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't do it. I couldn't give away my baby. He said it was his baby too. That this was hard for him too. I mentioned that I wanted to name our baby Katie Christine. Nick said we might not be able to name it. I told him that they couldn't take away my baby and name it too. "Our baby," he corrected.
You don't know how much you grow up when you realize that you may have to give away your own child.
Nick and I grew up so quickly in those weeks. My whole focus changed. The smallest things that had seemed so important even one month ago (whether or not my best friend was angry with me, or people liked me) seemed so insignificant.
Eventually, we found out I was not pregnant. I suppose I was relieved. I was upset too. I had been unable to give a family who really needed and wanted a child, their only dream. And I didn't get to have a baby.
Then, in August, everything changed again. This time I really grew up, far too quickly than I wished to. On August 12th, after one year and one month of being together, Nick and I had sex.
Accidentally.
I know, it's impossible. And it should have been. But we were stupid and silly and horny and in love.
I know you probably don't want to know the details but it's important to me that you know that neither of us meant for it to happen.
We were trying out gloriously painful butt-sex and stuck his wang in the wrong hole. End of story. We were retarded and we were teenagers to the utmost degree.
Nick made sure that I knew right away what was going on. He brokenheartedly said, "Rachel? It was the wrong hole." He said my name a couple of times to make sure I had heard or comprehended and then he said he was sorry. The first thing I said was: "It's okay, I love you." Then I collapsed against him.
Everything afterward blends together. I remember actions and snippets of what I said.
I kept saying "no." Sometimes quietly, whispering it once. Other times it was loud and strung together. Nick suggested we "wash it out" and I told him it wouldn't work but he insisted we try anyway. We went into the bathroom and he started the water. As soon as he let go of me, I moved from standing to crouching, hugging myself for protection. Nick said no Rachel please honey and I got into the bathtub. I just wanted to be held, I didn't want to be in the disgusting cold bathtub. I tried to curl into myself again but eventually we rinsed everything. After I got out of the bathtub, Nick dried me off and I curled up. Nick made me stop and he just held me as I bawled.
I still can't go into that bathroom without getting upset.
Nick took me back into his room and I cried and curled into myself again. I screamed. I yelled. Nick tried hard to just hold me but I was gone.
I needed to protect myself. I needed to hold on and make sure I didn't fly apart.
"I want to be a virgin."
"It wasn't supposed to happen like this."
"I don't want this."
Eventually I just cried and Nick held me. I had a mantra by then: "I don't want to be here. This wasn't supposed to happen."
I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to be anywhere. I didn't want to be alive. I didn't care if I was pregnant. All I cared about was the fact that when I get married and I wear my white wedding dress, I'm going to be lying to the entire world.
I don't know how I got through the night. I don't know how I got home.
I don't know how that week went. We were smart and got a test fairly quickly. While the first scare had been joking and semi-joyous this one was deeply depressing. By then, it didn't matter to me if the test was positive or negative. I didn't care.
Some days were good and some were bad. When I began writing this in my notebook, it was a very bad day. I didn't want to be in school, I didn't want to be anywhere.
It's not so bad. I think I'm mostly okay with it now. The worst part will be eventually telling my mom that she was right.
Typing this up was painful though.
I don't know how I stand on sex now. It's fun sometimes and I like it most of the times but lately, I've hated it. I don't want to do it anymore. I hate it. I hate it so much that I'm scared. How the hell am I supposed to have babies if I'm too afraid and mad at the entire idea of sex?
And now... I don't even care if my best friend hates me. I know Katie is terribly disappointed in me. I don't care.
No one can be as disappointed in me as I am in myself.
It was a mistake, an accident. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted it to be when we were married.
It hurts sometimes, when it's a bad day. Or now, when I think about it. It's those times when you need someone to talk to, someone to hold you.
There were posters up in school about an adoption agency. Emily was with me when I saw them. I told her that I thought it was a very nice and good idea. She just laughed nervously. I almost told her everything but I couldn't. The time wasn't right.
Or maybe I'm just completely incapable of telling anyone. I'm just too scared. It just hurts too much to bring up again.
I almost hoped Katie would bring it up when I went to see her over spring break. Then it would be over with. Then it would be off my chest and I would be okay.
I don't know if it will ever be magically okay. I think it will always hurt a little.
I don't like regrets. I try not to let anything happen that I might regret.
I am thankful for Nick. He's been supportive throughout all of this. I really cannot wait until we can get married and have five children together. He's really the best person in the world and he was always and is always there for me.
By then they'll be real children and not a scare. Children we can keep.
Maybe I can have the loss of my virginity that I wanted to have.
I just wish it was possible to get it back.
I'll tell you what, though. Praying and deep breathing/meditation helps a lot.
I love you.
Being disappointed in people just doesn't make sense anymore. I don't see why I should be, it's Kelly for goodness sake. She's my friend. I support her in whatever she does, whether I believe she should do it or not.
And it made me think about my own disappointments in myself. So I finally decided to type this up. It has been sitting in my notebook for a long time.
I'm sorry, Katie. I love you. I just really want you to know what's going on.
At the end of May/beginning of June 2005, I had not had my period yet. Well, it was late by about two weeks.
Then it was late by three.
Nick and I were a little concerned. I was a little less upset, or maybe I had just convinced myself or pretended that I was less so. We hadn't had sex. We'd messed around quite a bit but never had progressed any further. Nick thought maybe something "was left behind" or went wrong and without realizing it, we had.
Whatever it was, one day we decided that I definitely maybe might be pregnant. We were quiet around each other. I remember riding in Ben's car somewhere. I think it was up to Cedar or something. Nick and I didn't talk. I just stared out the window trying not to cry and trying to convince myself that we were wrong and that everything was okay. Ben didn't dare break the silence. I think he knew somehow.
I don't remember why we didn't just get a pregnancy test. Maybe we didn't have the money, maybe we didn't have the house to ourselves, or maybe we were just afraid. I don't remember. Nick will have to remind me.
Eventually, Nick said that we needed to have a plan. I told him that as pro-choice that I was, I was not going to kill my baby. We'd have to put it -- at this point I had adamantly refused to call our baby an "it" -- my baby, our baby, up for adoption. We looked around the internet and kept our eyes open for good adoption agencies. We found a nice Christian one that we agreed on if the time came. It gave the choice of having an open or closed adoption and free counseling afterward.
I wanted an open adoption. I wanted to know my baby and my baby's family.
Nick kept reminding me that it was our baby. Ours.
Coming home from Ben's house one day, or maybe going to, Nick and I stopped by the dam and talked. He'd been voicing his concern that he didn't think I'd be emotionally able to handle the fact that I would have to give up my child. Up until that point in time, I thought I'd be okay. I thought I could do it.
But as we sat there, the final front of what I was getting into hit me.
I'd connect with my child ("our child") for nine months then pop it out and someone would snatch him or her up and take them away forever. I'd cry on their birthday. I'd just be that strange woman who came to visit every once in a while, if I was allowed even that.
I cried a lot, sitting there in Nick's car. I told him that I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't do it. I couldn't give away my baby. He said it was his baby too. That this was hard for him too. I mentioned that I wanted to name our baby Katie Christine. Nick said we might not be able to name it. I told him that they couldn't take away my baby and name it too. "Our baby," he corrected.
You don't know how much you grow up when you realize that you may have to give away your own child.
Nick and I grew up so quickly in those weeks. My whole focus changed. The smallest things that had seemed so important even one month ago (whether or not my best friend was angry with me, or people liked me) seemed so insignificant.
Eventually, we found out I was not pregnant. I suppose I was relieved. I was upset too. I had been unable to give a family who really needed and wanted a child, their only dream. And I didn't get to have a baby.
Then, in August, everything changed again. This time I really grew up, far too quickly than I wished to. On August 12th, after one year and one month of being together, Nick and I had sex.
Accidentally.
I know, it's impossible. And it should have been. But we were stupid and silly and horny and in love.
I know you probably don't want to know the details but it's important to me that you know that neither of us meant for it to happen.
We were trying out gloriously painful butt-sex and stuck his wang in the wrong hole. End of story. We were retarded and we were teenagers to the utmost degree.
Nick made sure that I knew right away what was going on. He brokenheartedly said, "Rachel? It was the wrong hole." He said my name a couple of times to make sure I had heard or comprehended and then he said he was sorry. The first thing I said was: "It's okay, I love you." Then I collapsed against him.
Everything afterward blends together. I remember actions and snippets of what I said.
I kept saying "no." Sometimes quietly, whispering it once. Other times it was loud and strung together. Nick suggested we "wash it out" and I told him it wouldn't work but he insisted we try anyway. We went into the bathroom and he started the water. As soon as he let go of me, I moved from standing to crouching, hugging myself for protection. Nick said no Rachel please honey and I got into the bathtub. I just wanted to be held, I didn't want to be in the disgusting cold bathtub. I tried to curl into myself again but eventually we rinsed everything. After I got out of the bathtub, Nick dried me off and I curled up. Nick made me stop and he just held me as I bawled.
I still can't go into that bathroom without getting upset.
Nick took me back into his room and I cried and curled into myself again. I screamed. I yelled. Nick tried hard to just hold me but I was gone.
I needed to protect myself. I needed to hold on and make sure I didn't fly apart.
"I want to be a virgin."
"It wasn't supposed to happen like this."
"I don't want this."
Eventually I just cried and Nick held me. I had a mantra by then: "I don't want to be here. This wasn't supposed to happen."
I didn't want to be there. I didn't want to be anywhere. I didn't want to be alive. I didn't care if I was pregnant. All I cared about was the fact that when I get married and I wear my white wedding dress, I'm going to be lying to the entire world.
I don't know how I got through the night. I don't know how I got home.
I don't know how that week went. We were smart and got a test fairly quickly. While the first scare had been joking and semi-joyous this one was deeply depressing. By then, it didn't matter to me if the test was positive or negative. I didn't care.
Some days were good and some were bad. When I began writing this in my notebook, it was a very bad day. I didn't want to be in school, I didn't want to be anywhere.
It's not so bad. I think I'm mostly okay with it now. The worst part will be eventually telling my mom that she was right.
Typing this up was painful though.
I don't know how I stand on sex now. It's fun sometimes and I like it most of the times but lately, I've hated it. I don't want to do it anymore. I hate it. I hate it so much that I'm scared. How the hell am I supposed to have babies if I'm too afraid and mad at the entire idea of sex?
And now... I don't even care if my best friend hates me. I know Katie is terribly disappointed in me. I don't care.
No one can be as disappointed in me as I am in myself.
It was a mistake, an accident. I wanted it to be perfect. I wanted it to be when we were married.
It hurts sometimes, when it's a bad day. Or now, when I think about it. It's those times when you need someone to talk to, someone to hold you.
There were posters up in school about an adoption agency. Emily was with me when I saw them. I told her that I thought it was a very nice and good idea. She just laughed nervously. I almost told her everything but I couldn't. The time wasn't right.
Or maybe I'm just completely incapable of telling anyone. I'm just too scared. It just hurts too much to bring up again.
I almost hoped Katie would bring it up when I went to see her over spring break. Then it would be over with. Then it would be off my chest and I would be okay.
I don't know if it will ever be magically okay. I think it will always hurt a little.
I don't like regrets. I try not to let anything happen that I might regret.
I am thankful for Nick. He's been supportive throughout all of this. I really cannot wait until we can get married and have five children together. He's really the best person in the world and he was always and is always there for me.
By then they'll be real children and not a scare. Children we can keep.
Maybe I can have the loss of my virginity that I wanted to have.
I just wish it was possible to get it back.
I'll tell you what, though. Praying and deep breathing/meditation helps a lot.
I love you.