“Hello, this is Cindy.” My boss sounded chipper on the other end of the phone.
“Hey Cindy, it’s Tianna; I’m going to be late today. I can’t seem to get myself together. I keep peeing on myself“. Normally, I wouldn’t have said that to my boss; however, two days earlier she had taken me to the doctor because I felt “weird”; she sat with me through my pelvic exam and the scheduling of my induction.
“Are you sure you’re peeing on yourself? Maybe your water broke.” She sounded concerned. I was concerned too, but tried to hide it. I assured her that I had just failed to make it to the bathroom in time and that I wasn’t in labor. I couldn’t have been; I wasn’t in any pain. Cindy encouraged me to call my doctor since I was only four days away from my scheduled induction and eleven days shy of my original due date.
Nervous, I called the doctor’s office and told the receptionist that I still felt weird and that I had already urinated on myself 4 times that morning. She giggled a little and asked if I was sure it was urine. I wasn’t sure, but I also wasn’t ready to be in labor. I was advised to come to the hospital immediately and go straight to Labor and Delivery. Talk about scared!?!?!?! I called my mom and told her what was going on; then I asked to speak to my grandmother. It was her 88th birthday and I wanted to wish her a happy one, in case I spent the remainder of the day giving birth. My grandmother was adamant about me NOT having my son on her birthday. I assured her early on that I wouldn’t; and then I went into labor on that very day! What are the odds of that happening?
So, I got dressed, called my boss back, got our bags from the trunk of my car, and waited on my boss to come take me to the hospital. She hadn’t exactly signed up for that job, but I was too nervous to drive myself and my mother was over an hour away. So, to the hospital we went. Everything happened so quickly once I got there. Before I knew it, it was almost noon, I was having contractions, and my mom was there. I was moved into an actual delivery room where baby and I were monitored until my obstetrician showed up. Around 5:30PM, she informed me that I wasn’t dilating and the baby was under distress, so I would have to have a cesarean. I was so upset. I wanted so badly to have a natural vaginal delivery, but my son’s safety came first of course. At 6:18 I was rolled into the operating room for my cesarean & prepped for the epidural I was dreading. At 6:52PM on August 19, 2011 I met the reason I breathe and the love of my life, my handsome little everything; Sevryn Mor’ris. At that moment life was good. The months leading up to that moment and the weeks and months to come would be tricky, at best. Get comfortable, let me explain…
My pregnancy came as a complete shock to me and everyone around me. I’m grown, working, and fairly settled. However, I’m single; well I was when I found out about my little bundle of joy. I was single and doing whatever I pleased. I was just doing me.
On Christmas Eve I rushed to Wal-Mart, before closing time, to get a box of tampons, in the event that my already week late period would come on Christmas Day, along with my other gifts; it didn’t. I kept my concern to myself for the next week. On New Year’s Eve I was tired and sick. Instead of going out to party, I was in the house trying to relieve the nausea; I thought I had a stomach virus. Two days later after my shower, I laid down in bed without a bra & felt a pain I had never experienced. My breasts were so sore. It wasn’t PMS soreness. This was a different, damn near unbearable pain. In my heart, I knew I was pregnant.
I didn’t tell anyone about my suspicions. I went to Wal-Mart on my lunch break the next day and purchased a double pack of pregnancy tests. As soon as I got off work that day, I took them. I didn’t want to take them at work, because like I said, I already knew in my heart that I was with child. I wasn’t sure how I would react when it was confirmed, however. The double lines appeared before I even had a chance to recap the stick. I laughed out loud, even though I was alone in my apartment. “What the hell am I going to do with a baby?” I asked myself aloud. That night I went back to the store and purchased another test; just to be sure. I saved that test for my first urination of the next day; as the directions encourage. I got the same thing, an immediate positive result. I cried as I finished getting ready for work. I thought back on my situation.
First of all, I wasn’t even on speaking terms with the man I was pregnant by. A week before Christmas we had a knock-down -drag –out and I hadn’t spoken to him since then. How would I tell him I was expecting? Would he believe me? More importantly, would he be there for me? For our child? I considered not ever telling him; but I couldn’t deprive my child of a relationship with his father. If they didn’t have a relationship with each other; it wouldn’t be because of me.
When I overcame my initial shock, I went to the doctor and made plans to tell my family and friends. The news was well received by most. My youngest sister was jealous for a few minutes; I had spoiled her so rotten, it was ridiculous. She wasn’t looking forward to sharing my attention (or money and gifts) with my own child. My older sister was disappointed in me and chose not to speak to me for several weeks. That wasn’t exactly what I needed considering how scared and alone I already felt. I wasn’t as concerned with their reactions as I was the reaction of my “Baby Daddy”.
Finally I decided to call him; he didn’t answer. In my mind I was hoping he wouldn’t call back; however, he did. I was still upset about our fight, so there was no small talk on my end; I came right out with it. “I’m pregnant. I’m keeping it and if you don’t want to help me or be a part of it all, that’s fine. But you need to let me know now what you’re going to do, because I don’t want my baby to have a part time dad.” I sat quietly and waited for him to respond.
I had already prepared myself for a jerk response from him, but he didn’t give me that. I could hear a smile in his voice. He asked a few questions, none of which was the dreaded “is it my baby?” He asked how I felt about it, how I was feeling physically, and where we should go from there. I didn’t want to go anywhere from there, with him. I was still very upset despite the fact that he had apologized over and over. I’m a bit of a grudge holder. I admitted to him that I wasn’t interested in rekindling anything with him at the time, but I was a bit confused, because I thought it only fair to at least give “us” a shot, for our baby. He agreed that we should try to be a family. I was totally apprehensive. I usually don’t give second chances after someone has hurt my feelings; but I’m usually not carrying that someone’s child.
Over the next few weeks, we spent a lot of time trying to get back into each other’s good graces. We discussed what we thought the baby would look like, possible names for him/ her, the preferred sex of the baby, etc. We decided to attempt a relationship for the second time in a few months. I tried to adjust to all his annoying habits, his constant talking, and know-it-all behavior. We were spending a great deal of time together and I was growing more and more annoyed by him every day. I put up with it, but started being cruel to him. I blamed it on the hormones, which it really could have been; or maybe I was just being evil because in my heart, I didn’t want to be with him. I wasn’t even positive I wanted to have his baby. I knew that I wanted a baby and that I could handle the responsibility of a baby. I even knew that I was blessed to have been chosen to carry a child, but I couldn’t shake the fact that I was carrying Paris’child. I didn’t and still don’t want to share my baby with him.
After about six or seven weeks of pretending to be happy with him, I suggested we call it quits and just focus on being good parents. He hated the idea and continued to act like we were a couple. This made me think he was crazy; and I’m still not so sure that he’s not. He put up with more of my shit than any other man I’ve ever had in my life; and he always managed to stay so calm. He would tell me he loved me when I was ready to kill him and had mistreated him. I never said it back to him. Sometimes I felt bad, but he knows I’m an honest person & if I don’t feel it, I cannot say it. He never pressured me. Now, before I paint Paris as an angel, let me discuss my pregnancy.
I went to the doctor alone almost always; I never went to the doctor with Paris. I took a friend with me for my initial visit. When I found out the sex of the baby, my mom and younger sister went with me. I invited Paris to that appointment and he showed up as we were leaving. I was pissed off, but in effort to not be a complete bitch toward him, I invited him to lunch after my appointment. That was the day he met my mother.
He was his usual talkative self. I was my usual evil self. I was really hurt that he missed my appointment. When I showed him the pictures from the sonogram he smiled. He was excited to have another son. He asked if he could have one copy, since the ultrasound tech had given me about 8. After lunch (4-12-11), I didn’t see Paris again until the day I gave birth to my son (8-19-11). We spoke on the phone maybe 4-5 times between April 12th and August 19th. Every time we spoke, I talked to him badly and we ended up arguing. I didn’t consult with him in finalizing the name of our son. I considered myself a single parent & began preparing for my son alone. It’s a good thing I was prepared and responsible because he didn’t offer any assistance. I argued with him about helping me take care of prenatal costs and things that we would need before the baby came. He complained that all I wanted was money. So, the arguing continued. When I went into labor, I didn’t call him. Someone did though, because when I came out of recovery 10hrs after labor began & 2 hours after giving birth, he was there.
I was happy to see him. My emotional state was seriously unstable at the time and I think I would have been crushed to meet my baby boy without his father being there. The night I delivered, he stayed with me at the hospital. It made my heart warm to see Paris, holding Sevryn, our son. He just stared at him. I caught him crying two times. In my mind all was good, the past didn’t exist. Paris was at the hospital and attentive to Sevryn and I the entire next day and night. The third day, I could tell he was getting antsy. He left the hospital for what was supposed to be a few hours, but promised me he’d be back. That night, my mom couldn’t stay with me; so I had asked Paris to be sure to come back so that I wouldn’t be alone. He didn’t; I was. Despite having the love of my life in my arms, I cried all night long. I thought his father was doing better. Why wouldn’t he just come back and be here for me? The next day, I was sad and a bit upset with him, but I still let him know that we were being released and would be going to stay with mom about an hour away. I wanted him to see the baby before we left. He promised he’d get to the hospital that afternoon before we left.
We pulled out of the hospital parking lot at 4:57 PM and I still hadn’t laid eyes on him since the day before yesterday. My mom took me to my apartment to pack bags for the baby and me, for the next two weeks. I told Paris what we were doing. He said he’d meet me there to see the baby. He never showed; we waited 3hours on him. My feelings were hurt; I thought that once Sevryn was born, we’d be better. He wasn’t doing better; it didn’t even feel like he was trying. I was hurt but I still wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. He hadn’t made us a priority, but because of my crazy hormonal pattern, I was ready to make him my all. Luckily, a girlfriend of mine had warned me to take it slow because my feelings would probably fade soon and were likely so strong because of the hormonal change my body had just gone through. I’m so glad she had my back. If she hadn’t, who knows what predicament I would be in now?
When my son was six weeks old, I moved an hour away from his father, back to my hometown. Between the time my son was two weeks old to six weeks old; I’d say that Paris saw Sevryn four to five times. Each visit lasted at least 24hours but no more than 72. Paris was helpful with the baby, for the most part. He dressed him, changed him, fed him, washed bottles, put him to sleep, etc. The one thing he never did could possibly be what I needed him to do the most; provide financially for our son. Until I belittled him and talked down to him like I never had before, Paris had never spent one solitary penny on our son; NOT ONE CENT! All my arguing and fussing only pulled $40 from him. That disgusted me. I couldn’t make him understand that kids cost & babies cost even more than kids. He made excuse after excuse as to why he couldn’t do more at the time, now I know the real reason why he didn’t do more.
I wanted to be patient but as time went on, I grew more and more angry about doing everything for my son on my own. I tried not to nag Paris about his lack of financial responsibility, because I wanted him to be an active part of our son’s life. I wanted Sevryn to know his dad and feel comfortable around him. I wanted his dad to show up for his games and activities when the time came for those things. I didn’t want to push Paris away because he wasn’t providing financially; but keeping him away was the only thing I knew to do to get his attention. That’s the only leverage I had with him.
I invited Paris to spend Thanksgiving with us; For one, because he hadn’t seen his son in a month and 2, so that he wouldn’t have to spend the holiday alone. He was with us from Wednesday until Saturday. I was miserable from Wednesday, until Saturday. He criticized the way I did everything for our son. I fed him too often, I was going to spoil him by rocking him to sleep, his clothes were too preppy, he doesn’t need a night light in his room… he went on and on. That was by far the worst Thanksgiving of my life. On Black Friday, we waited for the sale crowds to die down and went to Wal-Mart. I purchased diapers, formula, and 2 convertible car seats for Sevryn. When it was time to pay, Paris disappeared. We had a pretty bad argument that night and he took out walking. I wanted so bad to lock him out and make him find his way back to where I picked him up; but I couldn’t. I cared about him deep down and I hated it!!!! He told me that Saturday before leaving that he probably wouldn’t help me much with Christmas or our son’s birthday. I wasn’t surprised; but I was hurt. I just said “ok” and ended the conversation. It’s very exhausting to have the same conversation over and over for months and never see any change.
I do everything for Sevryn on my own. Doctor’s appointments, sickness, medication, food, formula, diapers, clothes, shoes, toys….all me! I don’t mind doing for my son, because he is the center of my world. He has brought an immense amount of joy to my life. I can’t pretend that it doesn’t hurt not to have his father around to help me or to watch Sevryn grow up. It’s unfair to me and to my son that he only has one parent; but what can I do? I exhaust my mind, body, and funds on a regular basis to care for that little boy.
I had lightweight accepted the fact, that I got pregnant by a deadbeat, and moved on, when I received some information. In early April 2012, I received four phone calls back to back while I was at work. I ignored the first three because the number was blocked. I answered the fourth call. It was a woman. She wanted to know who I was and if I realized that I was texting her husband’s phone. I apologized and informed her that I was trying to text my son’s father and must have saved his new number incorrectly. She asked for the name of the person I was looking for. I told her and she laughed.
“That’s my husband”, she said and continued on, “but that’s not his real name. Is this Tianna?”I couldn’t believe my ears! I was speechless. I hadn’t taken a breath since she said “husband”. What in the world had I gotten myself into? Who had I been involved with for the last two years? If what she was saying was true, where was she while we were together? I snapped out of my daze and realized she was still talking. I tuned back into the conversation, never saying a word. She spoke about personal things that let me know that she was a part of Paris’ life at the very least and if she was making this up, she had done her research. She went on to tell me about another child he had, close to my son’s age and how much Paris wanted to be in his kids’ lives. The mothers of his children should just do their best to get along with him, for the kids. She assured me that she knew all about me, had been spying on me via Facebook, and knew all about his lies and cheating. Becoming overwhelmed with emotion, I politely excused myself from the phone call. I cried for 2 hours in my office, before deciding to take the rest of the day off.
I didn’t share that information with many people. I was so embarrassed! Here I was with an eight month old baby and I just learned that his father could be married and I don’t even know his real name. That was the worst part of it all to me! He had lied from jump. He never intended to be honest with me from the day we met in June 2010. He refused to sign the birth certificate, not because he didn’t believe he was Sevryn’s dad, but because he didn’t want me to know his real name. I shared the story with my mother and about 3 of my closest girlfriends, coming to tears each time I brought it up. Finally, I decided that I needed to talk to him. Maybe the woman I talked to was lying. Maybe she was a jealous ex or a baby mama. Maybe …. Maybe… Maybe. The next night, after a glass of wine and a great deal of thought, I texted his phone again, teary eyed. I asked him if we could talk. He responded quickly “of course!” He called my phone and immediately apologized for not sending me any money to help with our son’s Spring/Summer wardrobe. I cut him off and began to question the conversation I had with the woman claiming to be his wife on the phone, the day before. He seemed bewildered and had absolutely no idea who I had talked to on the phone. I didn’t believe him, but was already tired of dealing with him and the situation. We ended the conversation with him promising to wire me $200 the next day for Sevryn. I knew better than to hold my breath for that. That was actually the last time I spoke to HIM.
On May 18th, while fastening Sevryn into his car seat, I received another call from this woman. This time she asked me to get a paper and pen to write down some information. She gave me a name and a birthday; then she went on to give me a list of a combination of 6-8 more names-aliases. Paris was not my son’s father’s name. He had given me the right birthday, but the wrong year. I believed him to 3 years older than he actually was. The female caller also gave me information about more kids and women. Apparently, she was not his wife, but had been his girlfriend for a long time. She knew about all of his kids; I only knew of a five year old son, that he told me about when we met and a possible that would be about 6 months younger than my child. There were plenty more; eight, I believe. Each “baby mama” was given a different name by this man, so that we would never cross paths or hopefully realize that we had children by the same man, if we did cross paths. At least, that was his plan. After this phone call, I was astonished. I didn’t know people really did that sort of thing. I missed half the information “Rebecca” gave me on the phone that night, because I couldn’t listen and try to make sense of the situation. I had already handled most of the embarrassment and shame I felt because of the situation I was dealing with, by the time she called again. The second phone call was almost funny to me. I appreciated the information, but mostly, I didn’t care and could have done without the call altogether.
Here we are six months later, and I still toy with the idea of filing child support, just because I know that he’s broke now. I know that he doesn’t work. I know that he will go to jail before he voluntarily pays for his actions, but so what. Why should I let him get off free and clear while I struggle to provide for a child I didn’t make on my own? So, while I’m unsure how I’ll handle that, I know one thing for sure, he will never be granted permission from me, to see my son again. I have made a conscious choice, as Sevryn’s mother and provider, not to ever again allow him access to Sevryn. I don’t care if I file for child support and he pays every dime on time; in order to spend time with my child, he will have to take me to court. Any person who can meet and decieve women, make babies with them and leave with no intention of being there for them or even letting them know who he really is is not welcome in my child’s life. There are enough monsters, devils, and bad people that I won’t be able to protect him from, for me to let one that I can keep away, walk right into Sevryn’s life.
For the longest time, I wished bad things and death on Paris. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to hurt like the mothers of his children hurt while struggling to provide for his children. I wanted him to hurt like those kids will hurt when they realize that daddy isn’t around and has no interest or intention in coming around. Eventually, I learned that the hatred I have in my heart, isn’t affecting him. He doesn’t feel my anger. All I’m doing is pushing myself away from God and making my own life miserable. I was re-breaking my own heart over and over. One night I just decided to stop drinking that poison and start praying for him. Now, when my days get too dark to see the road ahead, instead of cursing him; I pray for him. I pray that God moves in his life in whatever way he needs to be able to see the error of his ways and correct them. After that, I thank God for giving me the strength to keep on keeping on. That’s all I can do at this point. My son is my world. He is truly something special. Abandoning him is his father’s loss.
That little boy has brought so much joy to my world. I can’t remember what life was like before him and honestly, I don’t even care, because it’s marvelous now. It doesn’t matter what kind of day I’ve had or how much he’s acted up at the sitter while I was working; when Sevryn smiles at me, everything is better. I’m not sure of the lesson God wants me to learn from this trial, but I won’t question it; because so far he is the best thing to ever happen to me….with or without his father in his life.
Like this story? Well, stay tuned for the release of Baby Mama Memoirs by Tianna Rae' & then purchase a copy!!! Thanks for your support...
Peace and Blessings
~XOXO,
LyfeBytes
