Hazel Bea

---

The typical “I just found out I’m pregnant” photo

---

This is the scrapbook page dedicated to my unborn baby, who I feel is a girl (I have no idea the real gender, this is just based on feeling). I hated calling my baby “it”. So, I named her Hazel Bea.

Like any mom, I love her very much and feel so thankful to be her mother. She helped me more than anyone else ever has to be honest. She was the strength I needed to say “fuck it” and reach out and openly tell my story of what was going on in my life for the first time.

I have always been a more reserved person on my personal social media sites just because I always felt that the masses don’t care anyway. The few that do care only care to have ammo to hurt you with.

“Dont be so quick to share your problems with others, 80% don’t care and 20% are glad you have them”

This was the first time (and probably only time as far as on my personal social media is concerned anyway) I’d ever done anything like this. It was only because the strength and devotion to my baby I felt as soon as I found out I was pregnant.

All my decisions after that involved her, greatly. And they involved my ex, too. I love them both. I can’t deny that fact. They also started to involve me, too. I think that was where I started to figure out self love at the very early stages without quite realizing it. It’s no denying that I have needed to figure out self love, I’ve been well aware. I have never figured out HOW, though, to be honest.

When I think of myself, I’m proud of who I am. I would absolutely never trade “me” for anyone else or their life. I’m not jealous of those who have it better or different or seemingly “easier”. I like that I am strong. I like that I can handle a lot of tragedy and still stay true to me every single time. So, I am confused as to how to “love” myself more than I feel like I do.

I don‘t like, though, that I have always given MUCH MORE of myself to my partners than they have ever given me.

That’s my issue to fix, too. Not theirs. They only gave enough to meet me in “the middle” but I surpassed the fucking middle and was way over on their territory. Looking back at my side on occasion and not even recognizing myself any longer. That’s a “me” problem, bad. I can’t really blame anyone but myself.

Hazel started me on the path of “I don’t give a fuck what people think anymore”. So, technically she is the reason I have anything online like this, she’s the reason I have an OnlyFans (kinda… there’s more to it than that but I couldn’t have done it back when I cared what people thought of me). Getting pregnant and suffering greatly, alone, with making a decision on what to do about it took me straight to rock bottom. There, in rock bottom, I kind of just COULDN’T care what people thought anymore.

I was trying to just survive.

I know that sounds dramatic but I truly had an extremely hard time with it. I was so torn. I loved my baby more than I thought possible and I continued to ruminate about what her life might be and how she would look and how sweet she would be. I obsessively thought about how it would be to raise her. All that is coming from someone who decided years ago I didn’t want kids at all. But, once you are pregnant it’s a different story entirely.

As much as I love Hazel, I love her enough to know I could not put her through what I knew was more than likely her fate. I was in an abusive relationship with the father and we had broken up a few days before I took the test.

He wanted nothing to do with her or me and kept stringing me along to make me think he would support my decision. He did not and had no intention of doing so.

I have no real family support. My grandparents that raised me had passed away years prior. I would be absolutely alone in raising her unless I did what I was sure I probably would… go back with my ex. I was worried since he didn’t want her that he would be abusive to her, also. I couldn’t do that to her (and statistics combined with my intuition told me it was likely). I wanted her to have a completely different life than I had. One that didn’t involve childhood trauma and abuse and neglect and drugs (I was having trouble trying to quit what drugs I was on, too). I tried my best to come to an answer that involved me fixing my life and never getting back with my ex and being a kick ass single mom with no support.

But, I had also lost my career a few months prior. My life was a complete shit show. I did not think I would have it fixed in time for her. I know myself… I struggle with fixing what I know needs it. Badly. I couldn’t guarantee I’d do everything that needed to be done in order to have a child that was happy and healthy and well taken care of and raised properly in a good home. And even then… it doesn’t change who the father is. He or his family could fight me in court one day, he could have still abused her. And maybe not, too. I just couldn’t rely on hope alone… I had no idea what the future held for my baby. It scared the fuck out of me.

50% of male abusers also abuse their children

I went through the hardest nights I’ve ever had when I took the abortion pill. I couldn’t find a single “friend” to stay with me. I had 2 people offer for me to come to their house but I really felt strongly that I needed the comfort of my own home with someone I was comfortable with. Call me particular or whatever… but that’s what I needed. I finally asked my estranged half sister that I see about once or twice a year. She was amazing for being thrown into the situation and I’m very thankful for her that night.

It was so painful and my body did not want to let it go.

The doctor told me that it would take 2 to 3 hours. I was given Motrin for pain and Phenergan for nausea because I was on something at the time and it’s not recommended to take that with a narcotic. It was the worst pain I’ve ever felt. I‘m not sure why my experience was so painful but it took 6 hours. Maybe it’s because I was at the cut off for eligibility for the pill. I had a strong feeling I was farther than even that due to how quickly and dark the line showed up when I took the pregnancy test even though based on what the emergency room estimated with an ultrasound… I would have only been 3 weeks and some days pregnant at the time of the test.

I don’t remember most of it, I blacked out the majority of the time it took due to the pain.

All I remember was starting to feel it after letting the pills dissolve in my cheeks and about an hour later I immediately almost passed out from the pain. I just thought to myself

“oh fuck”

I got into the bathtub and just rocked back and forth while crying on occasion and going in and out of consciousness.

I had my sister call the nurse hotline 5 or so times because I knew something wasn’t right. There wasn’t anything they could do at that time. Finally after 6 hours, it was done, and my sister had been truly put through hell so I told her she should go home and I would be ok.

I have never felt more alone in my entire life. I no longer had my sweet baby in me which was a comfort of sorts during the extremely rough times I had been facing. I missed her so much and didn’t even get to meet her. I knew her well though in a way… I guess anyone that’s been pregnant understands that statement.

I’ll love her more and more for the rest of my life and then some. I think about her every single day and wish things could have went differently.

But, I KNOW I made the smart decision and the best decision for myself and for my baby. She would have suffered on this earth similar to me if I had to place my very best guess on it.

I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy. And most definitely not on the person that I love the most.

---

---

OBYCF [OneBitchYouCantForget] Newly Spiritual, Probably Mentally Unstable, Artist, OnlyFans Slut, RN-BSN

https://linktr.ee/obycf