Maybe We Should Go Back

What a Night

I know it's been awhile, but I've been wanting to write for a long time and just haven't had the time.

Yesterday was the scariest day of my life.

But I'll start at the beginning.

The day itself went fine. Things at school have become much better solely due to the fact that I've had to change my personality and become a raving, authoritarian bitch, making kids cry left and right. I never knew this side of me existed, but desperate times call for desperate measures. It's been hard because I was Mr. Nice Guy all year and now I'm a hardass. As expected the kids are hitting back and fighting as hard as they can, but the difference now is that I'm winning the fight. By being a bitch. That's the advice my principal gave me when I went to him in desperation a month ago, ready to quit. I must admit it's working.

Moral of the story: be a bitch. Being a bitch gets results. Everyone hates you, but that's fine because you're getting what you want. Be a bitch.

I've had to let go of the easy going, no seating chart, bean bag chair, open minded, peaceful and safe classroom I've always led, and I hate that. But unfortunately what works for one age group at one school doesn't always work with a new age group at a new school. My desks are in rows, guys. Fucking rows. I hate that, but my quality of life is improving. Right now, my son and my sanity are more important to me than a relationship with my students.

I feel good because I've ultimately fixed my own damn problem. No miracles, no one bailing me out, no one helping, no sudden changes or good news. Just me. I haven't felt this strong in many years. Reminds me that I still have it in me to survive no matter what. I just have to get pissed enough to do it. When I'm in the peak of survival mode with a determination to make it, I will unleash hell. I still have that fight in me, and I needed to experience that. I needed to see the part of me that is determined never to give up or give in to my despair.

Anyway, back to the scariest day of my life. First I've been cramping and bleeding "old blood" for a week, like right before your period. My doctor assured me it was fine because it's not fresh blood, so I've ignored it. Yesterday I'm sitting after work, feeling Ethan move as usual, etc. Then I went to the bathroom to pee before I left. That's when I saw all the blood in my underwear. I went cold and called my doctor, who told me to go to the hospital right away.

I raced there in the pouring rain, crying my eyes out and begging God to let him live. It was honestly the scariest feeling I've ever felt. I no longer cared about anything else, even myself. Just my baby. I didn't care if I had to suffer or even die, as long as it meant he'd be okay. It wasn't like my usual suicidal thoughts, like it would be a relief to be dead. It was more like... desperation for him to make it despite what it might cost me. It was simply the first moment I realized my life is no longer about me. My life matters to the extent that it matters for Ethan. He's everything to me now. I finally have that crazy mother bond that everyone talks about. But this just made everything even more terrifying.

I went to the ER and they took me to labor and delivery. Hubby got there around then. We were both just terrified out of our minds and both crying and sick. I knew if they had to deliver him there is a small chance of survival. I'm only 26 weeks. The thought of losing him was apocalyptic.

They ran some preliminary tests and I heard his heartbeat and breathed a huge sigh of relief. For the next six hours they ran tests on me, shoved a bunch of tools up my lady bits that hurt like fucking hell, and did an ultrasound. I'd gotten there at 5 and we didn't leave until 11. They finally cleared me because everything was normal with the pregnancy. Turns out I have a horrible UTI, but I experienced none of the usual symptoms. It had gotten so bad in the meantime that I was just bleeding constantly without having any clue about why. They gave me antibiotics and sent me home to rest.

So I'm home today, just grateful that my baby is alive and okay. Grateful that Ethan exists and that I got pregnant. Grateful even for this job that has showed me how strong I can still be. Grateful for everything.

Three more months and I'll have him in my arms. I hope I don't have any more scares!