But I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain
To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain
From my eyesTonight I wanna cry
My younger
cousin RayRay is pregnant. Her baby daddy is a piece of shit loser nigger who
already has 4 kids and is currently in prison. I’m worried about her, but I
think she’s gonna be ok. I was in her situation once, except my baby daddy wasn’t
a nigger, though he might as well have been. He was a cocaine and gambling
addict at the time and he already had 3 kids. Yeah I know pretty fuckin dumb right? I was
young, too young to know anything, and I wouldn’t listen to anyone. My cousin is a little bit old then I was when
I was pregnant for the first time. She has a mother who is there for her. Here’s
the sickening part of all of it though. My dad, he hates my uncle P, RayRay’s
pops, and is absolutely fuckin giddy to find out how bad my uncle P takes it.
It fuckin just sickens me in ways I cannot even put into words because all I
can think about is RayRay and how she’s gonna feel. My dad truly wants him to
flip his shit without any regard for RayRay and how alone and broken she might
feel. I know what it’s like to have the 2 people you count on the most in the
world to be there for you to totally and completely let you down in every way. Now,
I wasn’t stupid enough, even in my most wild fantasies, to believe my parents
would be at all happy for me to be pregnant at the time by that man. What I got
was beyond my worst fears. I had left him, we’ll call him Roscoe, and had moved
back home because of his drug and gambling problem. A month later I found out I
was pregnant. Roscoe said he’d be there for me, to make sure I had an abortion.
After all he already had 3 kids. I didn’t know how I was gonna tell mom and
pops, but that was taken care of by my dad going through my shit and finding my
pregnancy literature. He had a habit of doing that and saying shit like, “Oh it
fell out of your zipped up, closed bag,” or “The mail that clearly had your
name on I thought was mine.” Yeah, sure. It was hell after that. They told me
to expect no help what so ever from them. Not money, not housing, not emotional,
nothing. They hated Roscoe so fuckin much, and I really couldn’t blame them,
but what they failed to remember was that the baby was half of me too. It was
abortion or nothing so, ironically, on Mother’s Day I had an abortion. For a
very long time I wished I had died on the table. To add insult to injury they
tried to make me pay for it too. I had charged onto my credit card that was
under my dad’s name. I told them to sue me. It turned out my bro had knocked up
his girl at the same time, but he was the smart one. He didn’t tell anyone in
the family but me until after my nephew was born. I moved back in with Roscoe
not even a month later. I was moving out one way or another because I couldn’t
fuckin stand the sight of my parents. I HATED them. Especially when I’d come
over for the obligatory Sunday dinner and watch them ooohhh and aaahhh over my
nephew when they were content to throw my baby away. It’s been about a decade since
then. It took me a very long time to stop hating them even thought I haven’t
stopped hating myself. I never talk about this, to anyone, but I’m sharing this
story with any Tom, Dick, and Harry who happens to come across this page. I don’t
know, maybe I hope by sharing this, by putting it out there I can let go a
little of the pain. After all I have a beautiful daughter now that I love more
than my own life, yet at the back of my mind is the lost baby and all the what
ifs that go along with it. My aunt is not my mother, thank God, so I think
RayRay will be ok. And I hope to hell my uncle proves my dad wrong. Peeps love
the babies, even if you don’t like where they came from. It’s not their fault.
