From about the time I found out I was pregnant (twelve weeks and one day, actually), I would write to Kayde. Before I knew he was Kayde, before I even knew he was a boy. I have over a years worth of entries typed out in my little wordpad document. It started mostly about me talking to him about his growth and my pregnancy, a little about me and my husband. I always started with a pregnancy update, but as my life outside of my pregnancy became a train wreck, I used it as a way to vent. It brought me closer to Kayde. I always wrote to him to tell him how much he saved me, and I still believe that with everything in me.
At twenty weeks pregnant, just four months after we got married, my husband left me. He said he wasn’t in love anymore. He said I was miserable (which I totally was). I wasn’t even miserable with him, I was just a miserable being. I loved being pregnant, but I hated everything else.
Anyway, he left me. We were living with my mom at the time and of course we worked at the same damn store (not how we met). He moved in with a friend of his that was only a senior in highschool. Was dead set on the idea that it couldn’t be fixed. We were done, but I had hope. Long story short, he cheated on me with some 18-year-old whore in highschool. Yes, whore. She was particularly known for being that. I was lucky enough to have him confess this to me, after being told by everyone else, immediately before my baby shower. We fixed things, or so I thought. Then he continued to cheat on me. Finally, he stopped about a week before Kayde was born, but he’d still talk to girls through facebook about not being sure about being with me.
It wasn’t until the day that Kayde was born, April 3rd 2013, that things started to look up. My husband, C, was the most loving, proud husband during labor and delivery. He became devoted to me. We sold his crappy old rundown house for a relatively small amount and found ourselves a cute little condo. Ever since the day Kayde was born, our relationship has grown stronger and stronger.
This isn’t my way of making you hate my husband. He was young, immature, and had no real responsibilities until Kayde was physically here. He also had a rough upbringing. Of course, this was no excuse for his actions, and I made sure he knew that.
Well, now that I’m completely off topic… I wrote to Kayde at least once a week while I was pregnant, and then as often as possible once he was born. And because of all of the happenings listed above, I honestly didn’t want to be alive. But I had to be, for Kayde. And he gave me hope that even if things didn’t work out with C, they would still work out.
Kayde saved me.
Now, just a few weeks from Kayde’s first birthday, we’re happier than ever. The whole situation made me realize I was taking so much for granted, and being miserable just makes everyone around you miserable. And I didn’t want that for my son.
My plan is to continue writing to Kayde through my blog. I may bore some with details about my life that are less than spectacular, but maybe it will inspire some.