Life Of A Single Mom

Chapter 22

This pregnancy was different from every other one I had been through.

Now don't get me wrong, I had been labeled high-risk before, but baby...

this one was in a league of its own.

During my first trimester, I ended up back in the hospital because I started showing signs of a miscarriage. The pain was unbearable. I remember laying there scared out of my mind wondering if I was about to lose another baby.

And surprisingly...

Micah showed up.

Despite everything. Despite me keeping the pregnancy. Despite me going against what he originally asked me to do.

He was there.

After running tests, the doctors explained something I had never even heard of before - apparently I had conceived while actively miscarrying, which made the entire pregnancy extremely high-risk from the beginning.

When I tell you I was confused and terrified...

baby, I was LOST.

Nothing about my situation felt normal anymore.

Somewhere in the middle of all that fear, I made the mistake of reaching back out to Keith to tell him what was going on. Honestly, I shouldn't have done it because it reopened a chapter I had prayed to close forever.

But at the end of the day, we shared a child together, so completely cutting ties never felt realistic.

Around that time, I also started seeing a different side of Micah.

Not abusive... but harder.

More aggressive emotionally. Short-tempered. His tone changed sometimes in ways that honestly scared me a little because I had never seen that side of him before.

But part of me understood why.

Micah had spent years looking at me like I was perfect. Then when he finally got his chance with me, reality hit all at once. The pregnancy. The uncertainty. The possibility that the baby might not even biologically be his.

Meanwhile, Keith was suddenly acting like the perfect man again.

Checking on me constantly. Making sure I was okay. Offering support. Acting hurt by everything happening.

And the craziest part?

He even said if the baby turned out not to be his, he would still help take care of the child anyway.

The emotional confusion from both men drained me completely.

Eventually, after a couple months passed, Micah slowly started accepting the situation for what it was. One night he asked me for one thing only:

Stop contacting Keith about the pregnancy.

He told me no matter whose baby it turned out to be, he was willing to step up completely and be there for both me and the child.

And honestly?

Hearing that softened me deeply.

Because despite all the stress, this ended up being one of the healthiest pregnancies emotionally I had ever experienced.

For once, I actually had support.

Not fake support either.

Real support.

Micah's family and friends embraced me completely. They made sure I never lacked anything. If I couldn't reach Micah, I knew somebody in his circle would show up for me without hesitation.

And I loved them for that.

They became family.

For the first time ever, people even planned a baby shower FOR me instead of me having to carry the stress of organizing everything myself. They wanted me to simply relax and enjoy being celebrated.

But baby boy had other plans.

Before the shower could even happen, I ended up back in the hospital again and everything got canceled.

I was heartbroken.

Then to make things even more emotional, Micah's best friend accidentally slipped up while talking to me and revealed that Micah had planned on proposing at the shower.

Baby...

after hearing that, I stayed on edge for weeks.

Every date night. Every family gathering. Every random romantic moment.

I kept waiting for him to get down on one knee and ask the question every woman dreams about hearing:

"Will you marry me?"

But that moment never came.

Instead, as my due date got closer, everything between us slowly started falling apart.

It felt like we were riding an emotional roller coaster neither one of us knew how to get off.

Because deep down, Micah knew the truth was approaching fast. Once the baby arrived, there would be no more avoiding paternity questions, no more pretending uncertainty didn't exist.

Reality was coming.

And I don't think he knew how to handle it.

Little by little, he started changing.

Drinking became an every-night thing. Smoking became routine. The warmth between us slowly disappeared.

Conversations became shorter. Distance grew heavier.

If we weren't talking about the kids, bills, or the house, most days he barely had anything to say to me at all.

And honestly?

That silence hurt more than yelling ever could.