Day Seven.

Seven days. One week. One whole week with this precious child, and it still sometimes shocks me that she's mine. I can't remember the feeling of being well rested anymore. It's 5:00pm and I'm already exhausted. My little cupcake woke up at 2:00am and of course mommy has been up with her the whole time, too. She's having a hard time breastfeeding, which is odd considering how great she's been doing the last couple days, so I'm switching her to half breast, half bottle. It's working out great so far, I'm keeping my fingers crossed. One week down, so many more to come. It's just the beginning of an incredible journey.

Day Six.

One of our favorite things she does is randomly put her arms up in the air, and just hold them there. For an awkwardly long period of time. Someone will be holding her, and she just slowing raises one hand in the air and sits there like that. Weird. Precious, but weird.

Our friend Claire took this picture and said she looks like the statue of liberty in her mint green snuggler :)

Day Five.

Daddy and I finally went and bought Ki a preemie size outfit - She gets more and more beautiful every day. Those big dark eyes make me melt.

Day Four.

Kiley found her hands today, and can't seem to keep them out of her mouth now! Another sleepless night, another drowsy day.

Day Three.

As precious as this picture is, the events leading up to it involved the worst night I could've ever possibly imagined. She's passed out with Daddy because neither of them (or I) slept for even a second through the night. What we thought were awesome sleeping habits at the hospital were all shot to hell when we came home. Not a single hour of sleep. The day that followed was less than favorable. But hell, at least she's still cute.

Day Two.

This bottom picture is one of my favorites - I'll probably say this a million times, because in all honesty, they're all my favorite - Alex found this hat at the hospital and it makes her look like Aunt Jemima. We finally got to bring her home after two nights in the hospital with her. They kept her an extra day to continue testing her for the slight jaundice she has - that's why her skin has such a yellow-y hue - They had to prick my little baby's heel to draw blood, but they said she slept right through it. When we got her home, I immediately took her to her closet to play dress up in the vast amounts of clothing she has and was extremely disappointed when nothing fit her. Nothing. At all. Not even the tiniest of her newborn onesies. Oh well, she'll fit into them eventually, her getting bigger is inevitable.

Day One.

On day two, Kiley's new friend Kenedi came to visit us at the hospital. She's four months old.. I'm scared for Kiley to get that big; I just want her to stay tiny forever.

Day Zero.

There are no words.

Seven Hours Later -

I hit post for my last entry as my nurse was coming in to check me. They told me that the pitocin hadn't done a damn thing, and it was either time to break my water, or go home. I was heartbroken. I was terrified to break my water, because if that didn't kick start my contractions, there was no turning back, and they would have to do a c-section. I cried for a long time before finally deciding that I'd rather have her removed surgically than go home and sleep one more night without her. It wasn't a pleasant feeling, she stuck her fingers inside me while grasping a crochet needle ( or something perfectly resembling it ) and broke my bag. It was a rush of really warm liquid, and Alex said it looked like she pulled out a foot long loogie. *side note - this is my blog, and this is just my account of what happened so that I can look back and remember later. If you don't like it, don't read it, I know it's too much information.* In a matter of minutes I was having contractions that made my Braxton Hicks seem like a walk in the park. She offered me an epidural now, or gave me the option of waiting an hour. Five minutes later I was screaming for an epidural. She came back in saying that someone was about to go in for a c-section and she had to get one first, and asked if I wanted an IV medication instead. Duh! I don't know what it was called but it was the most amazing thing, ever. The only problem was that I was really dizzy and couldn't keep my eyes open. I passed out for a little bit until it was time for the epidural. It really was a walk in the park. I'm assuming that was due to the IV medication, but aside from a tiny bit of discomfort, it was great. Within minutes I was completely numb from the waist down and passed out in what I swear is the best sleep I've had in nine months. I'm awake now, starving, I've been without food since 7:00pm last night, but I'm dilated to a 4 1/2 at 11:30. It's not almost 1:30, I'm going to have her check my cervix and my epidural because I'm starting to get crampy. It may just be that the contractions are getting worse, who knows! At the rate that I'm moving, they say 1cm an hour, which means I'll be ready to push at 5:00pm. Back to sleep for me!

Admitted -

I spent my first overnight visit at the hospital, and I can't say it was an entirely pleasant one. Knowing that I have to stay tonight as well makes me feel a little anxious but I think it's mostly due to the fact that I'll be sleeping with the most beautiful girl in the world. I got here at 10pm last night. They went through the normal whirlwind of paperwork, awkward questions while my mom was in the room, the whole bit. They decided to skip the cervix ripening tablet and just jump straight to the pitocin. I've been hooked up to an IV since around 11:00pm - the dripping noises freak me out. They gave me an ambien and somehow I was awake until 2:30, driving Alex crazy and babbling about how my IV looked like a dragon. Lesson learned, don't fight the sleep meds. I remember sitting on the toilet sobbing because I didn't want to go sleep in the stupid hospital bed that they wouldn't let Alex sleep in with me. I didn't want him to have to sleep on the pull out couch, and I realized just how much I love him. It's crazy to me for my heart to literally hurt from loving him so much. I didn't want to go to sleep. But I did, and here we are, 6:30am, and I'm still only dilated to a 1 1/2. BUT the contractions that, according to the screen have been going on all night, are finally being felt.. They're not terrible yet, just uncomfortable. I wonder if they would bring me coffee if I said pretty please.

I can't wait for you to meet Kiley :)

I'm leaving in an hour for the hospital. What exactly am I supposed to be thinking right now? I'm at a complete loss for any comprehendable thought. Here goes nothing, I guess.

What a mind-blowing experience this has all been. The last nine months are all bundled up into a little group of memories. What felt like the longest time period of my life - it felt like I was watching glaciers melt - ha gone by faster than I imagined they could. Here I am, nine months later. I still remember being at Walmart, standing in front of the pregnancy tests thinking, "There's no way I'm pregnant, but I guess I'll make him happy and take one, just for peace of mind." I remember the drive home, thinking about anything but the consequences of the little pink plus sign that was in my near future. It's crazy, thinking back. I took the test with such ease, laughing at what I thought was the humor in the situation, thinking about how insane it would be if it came out positive. I set the test on the counter, watched one line appear. I looked away, thinking, "Of course there's only one line, I couldn't be pregnant. I'm seventeen, for Pete sake." I glanced back to see a second line had appeared, and I distinctly remember the world stopping for a moment. It was a complete twilight zone moment in my life. I thought I was hallucinating. I sat and stared at it before having a slight mental breakdown. I remember stumbling into the hallway, flinging the test, and walking towards the door. Next thing I knew I had fallen against it, and somehow ended up in a ball on the floor, sobbing. It was all so surreal. I remember sitting in my car, completely silent. I sat there for an eternity, unsure of where to go or what to do. I spent the next few months like that. Completely unsure.. lost.. looking for answers. I thought I had made the right decision when I picked out a family to adopt my sweet baby. I met with them multiple times, talked through all the options and details. September rolled around, time to find out the gender. I walked out of the office sobbing, knowing that I was having a baby girl. She was perfect. A few more weeks went by, strings were pulled, circumstances fell into place, and I realized that I could do it. It would be hard, and there would be a lot of sacrifice involved, but I could keep this baby girl, and give her the life she deserved. Telling that family that I had changed my mind, and was keeping my sweet girl was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do, but I had peace of mind in the whole situation, and was relieved that in the end of this, I'd be holding a perfect bundle, and she was mine to keep. It's been months since then. Chaotic months of planning, preparing, and waiting. The days dragged on, the nights were never ending. And after all that, we're finally here. This is the last night I'm ever going to lay in my bed alone with Alex, getting ready to sleep, with no child. Tomorrow night I'm going in to the hospital to be induced, to evict my little girl from her perfect warm home. I'm sorry Kiley, but we want you too badly to let you hang out in there any longer. It's time to finally meet her. Life, as I know it, is over. After tomorrow, everything is going to change. And unlike any other thing in my life, this is irreversible. Things are never going to go back. I don't want to say this, and have it sound like a bad thing, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't absolutely terrified. I have a lot of expectations to live up to now, and I just pray I can live up to them. Not just for me. For Kiley, and Alex as well. For our new little family. Wish me luck.

Here I am, thirty-eight weeks pregnant. Thirty-eight weeks. And what, you may ask, have I been doing all this time? Not blogging, that's for damn sure. I'm so disappointed in myself. I used to be on here daily, pouring my heart out. And now that I actually had something to write about,

something that I would have wanted to look back on, I have nothing. But, in the spirit of being optimistic, I can start now. The end of my pregnancy; the beginning of my daughter's life. I sometimes forget that pregnancy is the shortest part of this wildly crazy journey I'm about to embark on. Raising a child. A little mini Sophia. It's a scary thought, I know - Buckle up, it's gonna be a wild ride.

I spent so many years of my early teenage years blogging,
wishing - hoping - begging for something exciting to happen.
I finally got my wish, and what do I do?!
I stop blogging, like an idiot.
My entire pregnancy, almost done.
Only thirty days left to go.
And who has a record of it? Not this girl.
The new year has come and gone,
When the hell did it become 2012?
I feel like people talked about this year when I was a kid,
And it seemed like one of those times that wouldn't ever actually happen.
I feel old, having moved out, being pregnant, etc..
But when I really think about it,
I still feel like such a child. Weak. Vulnerable. Scared.
I don't want to sit and pour my heart out right now.
I just don't want to forget about this.
Not yet, anyways.

Being ignorant to the fact that the people that you surround yourself with aren't true friends,

is one of the biggest mistakes you'll ever make.

WHY do we do this?

Why do we put ourselves in these situations?
If these people don't lift you up,

Encourage you,

Inspire you,

Change you,

Make you want to be a better person,

WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO BE AROUND THEM.

Why do we talk to people that put us down?
People that discourage us?
People that make us feel like shit,

People that talk down on us,

People that tell you that you just can't do it.

People that you KNOW don't care about you.

People that you KNOW talk badly about you, when you're not around.

People that you KNOW don't have your best interest at heart.

These people are our friends.

They're one of the biggest building blocks in our lives.

If they can't be there for your downfalls,

Why the hell should they be there with you to celebrate,

When you've waded through the muck alone,

And you've finally made it.

These people leave, when things go bad.

These people kick you while you're down.

These people, don't care.

Why would you want that?

I wonder how you would feel if MY friends treated you like shit.

Oh wait, I wouldn't ever let that happen.

The purpose of partying is what..
Going out, dressing up..
Getting drunk, and ultimately
Hooking up. Right?
How about partying at colleges?
...right.

This is why.

You can't have your cake and eat it, too.

You make me feel like complete shit sometimes.

I wish we could all be a little more like Kiley.
Shes perfect, flawless, innocent.
She doesn't hurt people,
With words and actions.
She doesn't act out of spite..
She doesn't make other people feel bad,
To make herself feel better.
People grow up to be so mean,
and so ugly on the inside.

Everything is going perfectly.

We don't fight, every little disagreement easily settled.

There are equal amounts of give and take.

He's ready for the responsibility of a daughter that's not his.

He's so in love with her already.

So why, tell me, do I have these flickering moments,

Where I'm absolutely terrified.

That we're not right,

That we're not doing the right thing,

That there's something I'm missing.

I can't decide if it's just typical Sophia,

Looking for a flaw in a perfect relationship,

One that doesn't really exist.

One little crack in our foundation

That I'll toy with in my mind

Until it splinters out and shatters us completely?

Why do I do this to myself?
Why don't I believe that I deserve happiness,

Or deserve someone as unbelievably amazing as Alex.

I need to stop messing with myself,

I need to allow myself to be happy.

I need to settle down before I ruin something

That there was never anything wrong with in the first place.

Journaling is so tedious for me. Why can't I just be normal and scrawl my thoughts down. And what for? For someone to stumble upon and read one day? Try and figure out the things that go on in this fucked up little head of mine? Im terrified to let him in. What would he do? If I cracked open my shell, opened wide, let him take a look inside? Th anger, hurt, betrayal.. the fear? But of what exactly? I don't think in this case its abandonment. I'm not as scared of him leaving as I am of him staying. Not living up to his potential, not having as good as he deserves.

Pregnant girls are damaged goods, haven't you heard

Our life is moving in circles. Its so nice to be able to call it ours, finally. But that's not what's on my mind right now. This week has flown by way too quickly for my comfort. I go to work, he goes to school, I go to my other job, he goes to work. Dinner, sex, sleep, repeat. Throw in a bill or two here and there and you've really got something. I hate wishing time away, but I'm ready for this part to be over. The hardest part. The "getting through" part. Getting through my pregnancy. Only 19 weeks to go. Getting him through school. Only four more years to go. Getting me through the last half of school. Only 750 hours to go. And then, the fun begins, right? Life, full time. No two jobs, no fast food jobs, no school. Just him and I and our jobs that we love. And after that, its just time! Time to grow and learn and love each other. I miss having time. I took for granted all the time I used to spend with him. I forgot that summers don't last forever and at some point he'd have to go back to school, and I would need another job. I know I'm looking too much to the future.. but that's just the kind of girl I am..

I'm settling in with my caramel frappe,

Finally ready to unload all of my stress.

Lately I feel like I have to keep myself held together for everyone else,

But to hell with it.

This is my blog, and this is what it's here for.

Alex and I are moving into our apartment in 10 days.

They called us just today to tell us that they want additional money.

I had to call and fight with them,

Telling them that it's illegal to demand more of a deposit.

We already signed a paper agreeing on a deposit,

And they had prior knowledge that we were first time renters.

I hate the stupid little things that always come up last minute.

It's only $150, but we aren't in a place where that's just money to blow.

I don't want to stress about it.

We're all packed up and ready to move,

Now all we have to do it wait.

We've been so blessed by everybody around us,

That all we've bought are glasses, a toaster, and a coffee maker.

It's so weird playing house.

Except this time, I'm really not playing.

This is it, big girl life.

Moving into my first apartment,

With my boyfriend.

I swore I'd never live with anyone before we were married,

but I guess there were alot of things I said I'd never do before I got a ring,

And well.. things change.

I love Alex,

and I have no second thoughts what-so-ever about living together.

I don't care that people keep telling us it's too soon,

We know what's right for us, and that's all I need.

I've never really been the kind of girl

To let other people's opinions stop me from doing the things I want.

Call me stubborn.

Aside from all of the apartment mess,

Kara, the adoptive mom for my baby,

is coming tuesday to my ultrasound.

She is going to find out the sex of her perfect little bundle to be.

Meanwhile, I'm going to lay back,

Avoid looking at the monitor at all costs,

And pretend that it's not all happening.

Pretend that my precious, perfect baby that's growing inside of me

isn't going to be brought into this world into another woman's hands.

Another "mommy".

I'm not mommy anymore.

I'm just some stupid 18 year-old-girl,

Who got pregnant, and couldn't have a baby.

Couldn't afford it.

Not enough time to work,

And not enough money to afford not working two jobs.

I just don't want to live the rest of my life wondering

"Maybe I could've done it."

It's going to haunt me.

I can't look at this baby when it's born.

I can't handle the thought of an open adoption anymore.

I have to do what's best for everyone,

Especially for this baby.

I need to protect it and help it grow as best I can,

And then hand it over,

and let her do the rest.

This is the hardest thing I've ever had to do,

And it's not even here yet.

I keep remember how perfect everything is, and I get excited all over again.

People of our generation, and our society in general I suppose, are so harsh. Insecure to the point of judging everyone else on everything possible, giving themselves a glimmer of self-satisfaction. Does it really take the feeling of putting someone down and feeling "better" than someone to make people happy? Have you ever tried complimenting someone? Surprising someone, being considerate, taking a moment out of your day to give them recognition for being a positive aspect in your life? I think if people realized what a better feeling it is to encourage people rather than to put them down, we'd all be in a better place.. People love insulting me. And I mean, I'm not surprised in the slightest. When you're feeling down, come dump your shit on me, there's plenty to talk about! I mean, why not? I grew up with a completely dysfunctional relationship with my Father, leaving me desperate for attention, which led to name calling and hatred in high school for being a "whore." I believe that word is used for girls that sleep with multiple people, and I didn't have sex in high school. People need to learn the difference between "whores" and generally flirty people. Flirting makes people feel good about themselves, and is harmless. Why not? Then I was pulled out of high school by my father, which people didn't understand. I heard multiple stories about it. It's funny hearing stories about yourself that people make up. I dropped out. I killed myself. I was pregnant. I was moved to a school for "troubled teens." Nope, don't think so. Last time I checked, I fell in love with a boy in a Romeo and Juliet situation, and fought to the death. That death being losing my high school experience and a giant portion of my reputation, but that's all neither here nor there. After dealing with alot of different situations, I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital for suicidal thoughts. You would think people would handle these situations sensitively, people being suicidal and all. But no, the onslaught of insults steadily increased. I was kicked out then, was fired from a job for something that wasn't my fault, later that year kicked out of beauty school. Became pregnant shortly after with someone I hardly knew. It's not like me to sleep with people I don't know well, but things happen and there it was, a positive pregnancy test. That's a big one, right? One of the easiest things to call me out on, as if I don't already know I'm pregnant; As if I don't already know that the father is far from my expectations of a father for my child. I'm judged for things that are out of my control. People look at the glass half empty, never giving the benefit of the doubt. I kept my baby. I could have easily aborted, moved on, taken the secret to my grave. The point of this isn't to give you a pity party sob story, woe is me, etc. I have an amazing life right now. I'm four months pregnant with a beautiful, perfect baby. I have an amazing man who I'm completely in love with. I'm moving into an apartment in a month, my own perfect little slice of heaven. My life is fantastic. The point is, everyone has a past, and everyone has secrets, and I'm tired of people being bullied and pushed around from people who have no idea. Mind your own fucking business, ya' know? Deal with your own shit, let them deal with theirs. There are two sides to every story, and people need to learn to take the time to know both before they judge someone. A simple blog post will never fix this problem with humanity, but hey, I feel a little better.

And I was like, why are you so obsessed with me?

In response to the anonymous comment on my last blog, ask her about pregnancy. You have no idea what goes on in her life, because you've obviously never been close enough to her. So that's that. And I didn't call her a slut. If saying that she only came over when she was around my area bangin her guy makes her a Slut, that's your prerogative. And as for me being a slut? Being pregnant doesn't make you a slut. It means you have sex. Do you call everyone that has sex a slut? Considering you're judgemental comments you might.. it means I was irresponsible and didn't use birth control. I'm sorry I didn't run out and buy plan B or get an abortion. Instead I'm giving up my entire life, working 70 hours a week, and making the best out of this situation. If everyone did that instead of running scared and being selfish with their lives, and being ashamed of whats happened, you would be talking different trash to a different girl. But you, you obviously have no fucking idea whats going on, or you would've kept your mouth shut in the first place.

I'm really torn. Its like a breakup. I have a box of stuff in my car. Her clothes, blankets, other various things. I want my stuff back, but I don't want to call her and ask for it. I don't want to drive over and get it because.. well, I just don't. Maybe she'll be over in my area bangin' someone soon and bring my stuff. That seems to be the only time she was ever over.

Convenience is a beautiful thing.

Your insides are ugly and selfish.

Get off my Blogger, and get out of my life. I should've done this a long time ago.

The sun is out.

Its a new day. And I'm going to be positive if it kills me, god damnit.

That would be too easy.

I wish that I had no emotions.
No attachment to people,
No missing people,
No loving people.
It wouldn't matter if they lied to me,
Or turned their backs on me,
And walked away.
My feelings wouldn't be hurt,
I would move on and live my life as normal.
And when they came back apologizing,
I wouldn't care.
I wouldn't fall for silly empty words.
And continual impossible promises.
I wouldn't be made a fool over and over.
I am so tired of all the second chance bullshit.
I'm going out on a limb here to sound like a complete hypocrite,
Because I've been given a million and one chances.
But I don't care.
I never deserved them,
And neither do you.

Dear ole' dad.

Where do I start?
I've sat down and tried to write this letter to you for over a week now. I have so much to say to you.. yet on the other hand.. another word to you, spoken for the rest of my life.. would be too much said. I want to be angry. I want to rant and bitch and blame you for everything. For pulling me out of high-school, for taking Connor away from me, for not allowing me to ever feel comfortable in my own home. I want to blame every unhappiness on you. But I can't. I've spent too long thinking it over, and have finally come to terms with the fact that the things you did were merely consequences for my actions. No matter how extreme, or overreacted they were.. you were just doing your job. I didn't let Connor go when you asked me to. You took me out of school. On one hand, I could have listened. On the other hand, when you have one parents saying its ok for 6 weeks, only to have the othet say no.. its confusing for a fifteen year old girl. I wish you would have understood that. I wish you would have compromised. But in the end, who was right and who wad wrong doesn't matter. What matters is that you're the dad, you're always right. At least, that's what parents like to tell themselves. You had so, so many rules. And rules are normal, and expected.. but you can't impose a bunch of rules and then never communicate with me.. my first counselor said it simply. Rules, without relationship.. equals rebellion. And that's exactly what happened. You gave me an abundance of rules. We had zero relationship. I rebelled. I ran at the first "get out of my house" and have been running ever since. Sex, drinking, pregnancy. All the things you never wanted, but didn't now how to keep me from without placing me in a bubble to live out the rest of my life. The only thing I can think of when I look back at the past year.. I just wonder what we could have done differently. I moved out a year ago, and we haven't spoken. I texted you on fathers day. And a few other times. Texting is emotionless, right on your level. And you still never responded. We've both screwed up a lot. And I don't want a relationship now, its too late for that. I just want to be the bigger person and apologize. I'm sorry for rebelling, despite whatever circumstances. You were the parent, and I was the child, and I didn't play that role. Why I'm posting this, I'm not really sure. I can walk away knowing that you'll never see this. And even if you did take a second to find out whats going on in my life, you'll never have anything to say.

Sometimes the hardest decisions in your life, are the right ones to make. The one's that you can't involve your own feelings in. It's about loving someone enough to put them in front of yourself, and embracing the selflessness.

Adoption.

Here we go. The beginning of my journey, into discovery and exploration.

Options. For myself, for my child, for Brenden.

I went to the one place for answers that I never go.

Adoption is all over the place.

Children, being adopted into the kingdom.

Sarah, begging for a child, and promising to bring it back to God

if he finally let her conceive.

She was just overjoyed to have had the honor to be a mother,

And she gave the baby right back to the God that gave it to her.

Maybe that's what I'm doing.

This is the only way that this situation feels better to me.

God gave me this baby, and I'm giving it back to God.

This beautiful, and love-filled family...

They love God.

And there's no doubt in my mind that they will raise

my baby to love God, also.

Me?

I can try.

But that doesn't guarantee anything.

I have a big decision to make.

I just don't want to regret giving up.

Or maybe I'm not giving up,

I'm just giving in.

To the right decision.

The hard one, but the right one.

Not worth the truth.

I'm a little too overwhelmed to be trying to blog right now,

but I'm going to try.

I'm tired of being lied to, and I don't know how to stop it.

I ignore all the little lies,

Act like they're not there,

Pretend like I believe him.

Picking my battles, right?

At some point though,

I just have to wonder

Why the fuck I'm not worth telling the truth to.

Why you have to lie, and hide,

And have a story and excuse for every little thing in life.

I'm tired of sitting back,

And letting it happen.

I've never been a pushover like this,'

I've never put up with bullshit in the relationships.

When did I stop standing up for myself?

When did my standards just dissipate?

Oh yeah, when I got pregnant.

I'm fighting tooth and nail to create a happy family to

Raise this baby.

I can't have a broken family,

I can't have a broken home.

I need stability,

And I need a million times more for this baby,

More than Brenden or I ever had.

But at some point I have to realize that if

This baby has a mommy and daddy that don't love each other,

It's going to be even worse than just having a mommy.

I need a vacation, and I need to clear my head.

It's going to be a long and lonely week.

I just want my baby.

I want to hold it, and just know that this was all worth it.

Because right now..

I don't even know.

Everything is falling apart.

I wish I wasn't too lazy to change this background, it's so depressing.
I'm tired as shit, but I can't sleep.
I'm laying in bed half naked with the fan blasting, I'm always burning up lately.
I'm exchanging "I wuv you", "I wuv you mostest" texts with my boyfriend.
Always makes my day a little better.
I'm getting a bit of a pooch, and my boobs are swollen and gross.
I'm never in the mood for people to touch me,
I just don't feel sexy at all.
I see these gorgeous girls, and I'm like,
"I'm so sorry you're stuck with plain ole' me."
I don't say that, he gets upset.
I wish I could talk to him about my insecurites,
And the underlying reasons for them,
But that's not a conversation I could have with any male, ever.
They don't get it, and they never will.
How perfect we try to be, all the time.
It's so exhausting, and we'll never get it right.

Is this what it took? Was I really getting that out of hand? No more cigarettes, at all. No more alcohol, at all. No more weed, ever. No more playing games with boys. No more dating, for that matter. No more parties. No more going out at all, really. No more putting up with fake, shitty friends that don't have my best interest at heart. Is this what it took to get me back on the right track? I'm having a baby. Eighteen years old, and my entire life has been flipped upside-down. I'm taking the good with the bad though. I'm not aborting it, and I'm not giving it up. You can all quit wasting your breath, it's not happening. And telling me that Brenden and I aren't going to stay together? Again, save it. That's our business, and not anyone else's, and I'm pretty sure you don't have to have two people to raise a baby, if circumstances came to that. All I know, is I have alot of growing up to do, and not that long to do it. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't terrified.


I know this baby is going to save me,
But I guess I never stopped to realize I needed saving.

When I was little, you taught me how to build a lego house.
You used to blow dry my hair after I took a bath.
When I got old enough, you taught me how to ride a bike.
You took me training wheels off. I was so proud of myself.
When I turned five, you bought me little mermaid perfume.
It was my prized possession.
My little feet would come running when I saw your headlights in the window.
You taught me to fish at Spanish Lake.
You would tell me now to worry about boys, they were nothing but trouble.
You moved away to our new house, left us behind for a while.
But you drove back every weekened to see us.
You used to want to see me.
The rest of us moved into the new house with you.
I started a new school, with new kids.
I turned ten. I cut off my hair.
You were so sad that my long hair was gone.
Just a little more of my childhood and innocence, gone.
Fifth grace year, christmas came around.
Me and Mom came home for christmas.
You stayed around a couple extra days.
A package came to the house for me.
You read my the letter, and opened the box.
We didn't used to keep secrets from each other.
You promised to bring the presents if I promised to say no
to the boy who had asked me out that christmas, so long ago.
You brought me the package, I broke my promise.
How can you expect a little girl,
Who's only in fifth grade,
Not to be curious about life and love.
Not to want those butterflies, and to hold someone hand.
To mean something to someone,
To feel special.
To be told that she's beautiful.
You stopped telling me I was beautiful after that.
You stopped treating me like I was special.
I started looking for that in boys, driving you farther away.
If I couldn't get it from you, these boys were going to have to do.
You would lecture me, telling me that I don't need these boys to feel special.
But who else was going to do it?
Surely it wasn't you.
And growing up as a girl,
Someone has to tell you you're worth it.
'Cause you know what happens when no one ever tells you that?
You go desperately searching for it.
For worth, for acceptance, for someone to tell you that you're beautiful.
You do whatever it takes.
And the more you search,
And the more boys you go through to try and find one that will stick,
The less beautiful you are.
And the less special you are.
And the less worth it you are.
You end up like me.
Worthless.
Alone.
Broken.
Used.
Desperately searching for what I never had.
And no little girl wants to grow up to be like this.

Okay, I'm doing this. I'm sitting down, and I am going to write. I'm not going to get frustrated, I'm not going to walk away, I'm not going to break another laptop screen. I have to stop being so scared to write. I used to be able to write non-stop, but I always seemed to learn more about myself than I really wanted to know, so I calmed down. Alot, to the point of neglecting my blog. I'm wanting to apologize to my blog readers, but I feel like I'm that comedian waiting for a laugh from an empty crowd. Like, hi. What readers. Not that this blog was ever really for anyone else but myself. I know, I know, "Why don't you just journal." But this was always a record of my life, and I needed to be able to access it anytime, anywhere. And if I wanted other people to understand me, and I mean really understand me, I could send them here. I would usually hide then, knowing that they would finally understand the inner workings of my scary, scary mind. I'm a messed up little person. I already want to stop writing. Close this, walk away. I get so frustrated! I don't know why I suddenly get so angry writing. I think it's because I'm thinking of all the things that have been going on in my life that I normally like to tell everyone about, but it's all bad. Let's just say, to make a very long story short; I am laying in bed with no boyfriend, job, or school to my name. All three of those things I had as of two weeks ago. I don't know where my life went wrong, but it did. I'm a big disappointment. I just want to get my shit in order, and do something right for once. I think I've written a legitamate amount of shit now, that I can justify posting and walking away. There. I've blogged. I can't forget about this thing, it holds my entire life.

mywaveringthoughts.blogspot.com

<3

I wonder sometimes about you guys. Are you like us girls at all? Do you have your moments of weakness like we do, or are just strong all the time. Do you ever go through the old pictures? Relive those moments of euphoric happiness one more time. Or do you honestly just not care that it's over? It may just be a guy thing, the bro code. Don't care, don't cry. Don't let anyone see. Or maybe you really are just heartless. Maybe I'm wrong, and the heartless that I'm talking about, is really maturity. Moving on easily, not putting yourself back in the hurtful situation every single night. Night time is the worst. Hours upon hours dragging by, and you know us girls only have on thing on our mind. You. The things I could've said differently that would've made you stay. The hurtful words that you know I didn't mean, that made you run away. The last time that I kissed you, that one's the worst. The little things, the silly stuff. Tickle fights. 3 am phone calls. Fighting in resteraunts over who's going to pay. Gorgeous days spent at the park, taking pictures of each other. These pictures haunt me. I just wonder, ya' know? Does it bother you at all that I'm not around? Do you see my face in people that pass you on the street? I wish I could make myself believe that the answer to all of these things is yes. But that's just me being a silly girl, I guess.

I guess I always imagined.. that if a man ever left me for another man, I would just laugh. I imagined that it would hurt a hell of a lot less than being left for another woman. There would be no playing of the comparison game. But I always seem to learn my lessons the hard way, and there ya' go folks. It hurts either way. It hurts to be rejected, to be second choice. It hurts even worse knowing that you're chemically and physically designed for this person, God made you to "fit." And you're still not good enough. Not fulfilling enough. Not.. worth it. I need to stop using my imagination.

Maybe someday, you'll look back and realize you made a mistake. Maybe someday, you'll come around. Maybe you'll want to talk about it, And maybe you'll try to work it out. Or maybe, it's too late. Maybe we've said all we can say, Maybe we can never be what we thought we could. Maybe we should stop thinking we're invincible.

I'm getting kind of tired of hearing people tell me all the time that you treat me like shit.

I don't even know where to begin. I've been hiding behind all the pictures I'm posting, hoping they do a better job of expressing how I'm feeling, rather than me trying and sit and pour out my heart into words. It's just that, once I start, I can't stop. And sometimes the things I say get me into trouble, and I'm just such a mess right now that I can't really handle confrontation. I realized that I'm learning how to put myself to sleep. When I sleep, I'm not angry, I'm not lonely, I'm not anything. It's like when I take myself out of situations, and find my happy place.. only I get to stay there for as long as I want. I'm also getting very used to being alone. I haven't had a real boyfriend for a long time. I have little confusion and drama filled flings, and I've gotten too used to being treated like a disposable piece of shit. I fucking deserve better. I let too many people use me, and walk all over me, and throw me under the bus, and I am done. I am at the point where I'm getting angry, so my better judgement tells me to stop pounding on these keys, and just hit publish post.

Like the sea

I'm constantly changing.

From calm, to ill.

Maddness fills my heart and soul.

As if the great divine

Could swallow me whole.

I think I like being upset over you.
I think I like making you angry,
And bringing up things that shouldn't be.
Negative attention is better than none.
Any attention from you, really.
I think I'm holding onto a part of the past
That I'm never going to get back.
But maybe I've been stuck here for so long,
That the saddness is all I have left of you.
And if I move on, and am happy..
Then you're really gone.

You never said goodbye.

Even if I knew what to say,
It's just too late to make you stay.

I hope you know this is about you.

I thought it'd be hard to write you a song,
The thoughts in my head are a mess.
The words fall onto this paper,
Like the lies that you spilled,
I guess it was all one big test.
You told me you loved me,
And told me you'd stay,
I suppose you can call me naive.
For thinking that someone,
Was telling the truth.
Is it really so bad to believe?
Was it really so bad,
To only have me?
I'm sorry I wasn't enough.
Saying, "It's not that I lied,
I'm just in love with her, too."
Honey, i'm calling your bluff.
You're selfish,
And mean,
Living just for yourself,
Someday that's going to end.
When you finally find,
the ONE that you want,
she's not going to put up with pretend.
For now you can mourn,
and swim in your pity,
I'm calling it party for one.
And as for my ryhming,
and calling you out,
baby that's only begun.

Here I am, day three of being in bed. I will be up, and well, by tonight. I'm determined. I refuse to be sick on my first weekend of having Friday and Saturday night off. I want to see all my friends, and have a little bit of my social life back. I'm also determined not to drink, at all. It's stupid and I hate it, and I don't know why I do it. It's not like I do it alot, but I do. Sometimes. And I don't want to anymore. So. The goal is, sober, fun, awesome weekend. Besides, there's always a need for a DD.
I've spent the entire weekend laying around with this one kid. It made my "being sick" alot more tolerable. It's amazing how much he can make me smile. It's also funny how easily he can change that to me wanting to punch him in the face. But oh well, you win some, you lose some. This question has been floating around in my head the past couple of days.. There's such controversy.. Some people say you wait, and you fight for people.. especially if they're worth it. But others say that if you're having to wait around, and you're having to fight, and you're having to second guess, and be made seconds priority, that it's not even worth your time. There has to be some defining line, there, right? I've come to decide that there's also a very, tiny thin line between fighting for someone, and caring sooo much.. and just being ridden off as a psycho. Different situation, moving on.
Well now my Mom called and I can't focus on this so I'll be back later.

Don't bother.
Don't bother coming back,
Not when she's still around.
Not when she's still number one in your life.
Number one, which makes me number two.
I can't handle being number two.
I'm too selfish,
I'm too much of a baby,
I need to much attention,
I'm too crazy.
Crazy jealous,
Crazy for you,
Crazy bitch.
Just crazy.
They all tell me that,
And I ignore them.
Ignore the yelling,
Ignore the fighting,
Ignore the name calling.
I run, and hide.
Hide like the scared little girl I am.
Act like a bad ass.
Try anyways.
Maybe..
Just maybe..
If it's me against the world,
Me against all these people,
Fighting, justifying, trying to explain my sanity..
Maybe they're right.
Maybe I am crazy.
Maybe I'm okay with that.
Maybe I'm stuck this way.
Whatever this way is.
Apparently it's bad,
But it is what it is,
And there's really nothing I can do about it.
Maybe..
If I stop getting my fucking hope up,
I'll stop crashing this hard.

What you said and what you did.

I wish you could've meant what you said.
I lost alot more than a "boyfriend figure."
That's not the part that keeps me awake at night,
and has me second glancing through every truck window at stoplights.
I lost my friend.
I lost the security, the comfort.
I went through and deleted your thousands of texts, finally.
Only two are left.
Why, I have no idea.
But they made me wonder.
The first one, is from December 22nd.
It read;

"It's difficult to explain. In a way, I wish I could hang out with you and help out with things. I know it sucks trying to do things on your own, and I want to see you happy. You deserve alot more than you give yourself credit for, and I want you to realize it. You think I'm a good person, but I want to be a better person because of you. I know that we both have rough lives but we shouldn't have to deal with it alone. I want to be a constant in your life, something you can depend on 24 hours day. I want to be the one thing you can count on for anything. I just want your life to be better than it is because you are so much better than this life. You deservev happiness, and I want to help you find it."

And the second text?
This one:

"Honestly..."

Yes, that message was full of honesty. All the honesty you had promised me in the first place. I'm not posting it, because it's too much work to change names and dates and situations so that I don't get myself in trouble. What you did was wrong. But I suppose when you think about it, I went right back and let you be an awful person all over again. But that's beside the point. That first message.. just reminds me that no matter what they say, who they seem to be, how nice they are in the beginning.. everyone can hurt you. And everyone, I mean anyone, will.

Day 22.

How i've changed in the past two years. The thought of even attempting to answer this question terrifies me. I know I've changed. I've changed alot, and not for the better. The majority of the chagne occured because of Connor. My first love, first heartbreak, first everything. Before him, I was sweet. I followed the rules, I respected my parents, etc. I'm not going to go into the whole story for the millionth time, but I was told we had to break up, and I just plainly said no. Dating was a huge no no for my family, but I decided that my heart and my life was my business and they couldn't do anything to stop it. I started lying. I started sneaking around. I started disrespecting my parents in plain view. I completely changed from the girl I once was. Then I was caught and pulled outo of high school. I became angry. Very, very angry. Depressed, suicial. Not even close to the old, happy Sophia, that loved people. I hated everyone. I hated my family. I hated myself. I dealt with this for a couple of months and then was finally allowed to go back to school. I was dealing with alot of rumors, drama, stupid girls, etc. So I changed again. I wanted to be accepted. I started drinking. Started smoking. Started doing whatever I had to do to get attention from guys so that I had anyone to talk to at school. This worked for a while, but was self destructive. The guys got tired of the games, the girls hated me for having all the attention.. I gave up. I dropped out again. Changed. This time for the better, a bit. Became for sceduled, responsible. Was working constantly. But the boring responsible day by day got to me. This didn't last long. Then I met Grace. With Grace came a best friend, a sister. But it also came with more alcohol, more boys, and less of my Jesus. I don't blame her for this, but I definitely fell a little farther than I had planned. I've fallen farther and farther these past couple months. I've been selfish and irresponsible and pretty awful. Nothing like the girl I was two years ago. I would love to get her back, but who knows if somewhere deep down, she even exists anymore. I may as well have suffocated her.

i love getting voicemails like these.

hey uh don't call me asking for, for fucking f-forgiveness and then expect to recieve it, because you say i fucked up, when really i did nothing to you and i acted like i fucking loved you and you were everything to me.. and then you come to me with a sorry, asking for forgiveness, really? if you're really sorry you would not do that. you really haven't done anything but become a fucking high school drop out and become a fucking, oh "i have to go to the salon in the morning." that's cool. wow, where are you going in life? a salon? wow, you think you're going to be able to support a family working in a salon? comon' now you got a GED you paid for, and sure everything right here sounds mean but guess what you just fucking apologized and said all this shit to me that was horribly mean then expect me to be nice to you? fuck that shit! if you wanna fucking apologize to someone, don't text them sorry, and then fucking expect them to say sorry to you after you're a bitch to them. listen i don't act fucking mean to anyone else in this fucking world but when someone is ignorant and fucking mean to me i give the same fucking respect back to them. so fuck off and don't act like you did nothing wrong you, fucking psycho bitch.

word.

Conversations with friends take on a more serious note, Taurus. Spiritual matters and beliefs could come up, as could the more pressing mundane details of life. Whatever is discussed today could bring to the surface new ideas for making whatever you're working on move smoothly and quickly to success. Metaphysical ideas seem clearer and more down to earth. Treat your friends to a nice meal.

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I need to find the line between being an awesome friend and being a doormat.

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thinking about my dad.

Maybe when I get older, we can figure out how to grow closer. That would mean forgiveness, on both sides. Forgiving isn't my best ting. Easier staying pissed. But I'm tired of being pissed all the time. Tired of feeling hurt by stuff that can never be fixed because it is an indelible part of the past.

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Day 21-

One of your favorite shows- I don't watch tv. But I do love me some Glee. And old friends reruns :)

Day 20.

How important you think education is;
Like this question, stupid. I dropped out of highschool and I'm doing just fine. It's a big load of shit.

Day 19-

disrespecting your parents. I did this for a very, very long time and it got me to where I am now; not living there. I respected them up until I met Connor, two/three tears ago. But this turns into a big emotional/angry rant and I'm not in the mood. So.

Day 18

Your beliefs- refer back to day four.

Post 1000! Dang it's been a while since I deleted my last blog.

Day Seventeen; My highs and lows of this past year.
The past year, 2010. Well, the year started with Kyle by my side. I honestly thought it would stay that way for a long time, and I guess it kind of did. All the wrongs had been forgiven, and everything was well. We were happy. Maybe a little too happy, too comfortable, too.. ahead of ourselves. January was focused on him completely, definitely a high point for me. I thought I had fixed everything and found my forever. February, the same. Valentines day, la da da. I got my favorite perfume and a rose. I'm pretty sure he got some kick ass sweaters, but maybe that was christmas, I don't exactly remember. I ended it at the end of February, due to.. being too comfortable? I'm not sure. At the time it seemed like a good idea. At times I look back and wonder why I made that decision. I guess it's one of those "you want what you can't have", and I finally had him so I didn't want him anymore? I'll never know. The first half of march was spent getting over him. Then I met Spencer. Breanne was my best friend at that point, and I spent every day with her, Joe, and Spencer. This was the point where I started growing up. I had a curfew, lost a little more communication, had a little more freedom. I took advantage of that a little. That's also when I started smoking regularly. Meh. I started working at Subway that month also. Hah. That's all I've got to say about THAT. April, still working at Subway, still dating Spencer. Started talking to Glen again.. May, turned seventeen. Me and Spencer broke up right before my birthday. I was almost dating Glen, almost. I thought maybe all the years of back and forth confusion had finally ended and we were going to be together, but of course being me, I screwed everything up. I ended it for good, and hurt him. But we're not going to go into that. At the end of May, I met Grace Burns. And the rest of the year was crazy, that girl changed my life. June began, and I was with her every day, from the very first day. Things got worse at home. Relationships began to crumble. I was hanging out with Chris Greathouse alot at this point, going to the Realm every week. I really liked him, but he was a sweetheart, and needed someone more "quiet and nice." I am neither of those things, so that didn't really work out. I met Jake, casually dated him for a little while.. Then Grace introduced me to Kevin. I know this is alot about boys, but that's how I remember what happened, when; by who I was dating. I love loving people. Judge me. Kevin changed me. It wasn't a super long relationship, but it was intense, and it was dramatic, and it was life altering. He taught me alot, good and bad. Mostly bad, but oh well. July.. at some point, I thankfully got fired from Subway. Anyways. Me and Grace went to a concert at Fubar. I met Alex and Jonah. I liked Alex immediately, and Grace talked about how cute Jonah was. We sat in the corner of the bar and fantisized about the four of us. Somehow, in the next couple weeks, we got what we wanted.. We both dumped our boyfriends, and began dating the two of them. They came over July 27th, we all hung out really late. Little things set my Dad off, and the next morning we got into a fight, and one thing led to another.. I moved out that day. Threw all my shit in trashbags, crying, had my best friend pick me up. Moved in with Grace for about a week. She then left for New York, and I moved into my grandma's house because she said I was too depressed to be left alone for a week. I ended things with Alex at this point and got back together with Kevin. We went 'round and 'round, he left for college, more dating and breaking up and loving and crying and drama. I got my new job that month, back to good ole' McDonalds. The end of the month I met Justin. Started dating him. It was a very destructive relationship. I got my high school diploma. This was all in August. September, still dating Justin. Got a second job at Halloween Express. October, me and Justin broke up. Still working two jobs. Took my first trip down to SEMO to see Connor. That name hasn't come up in a while, but he's still around. The trip was disasterous, and that's all I'm going to say about thattt. November, wrecked my car. Totalled it. Best thing that's ever happened to me. Finishing up foundations in school, cut all my hair off again, stayed single. December, school, work, Grace. That was my life. Still is. Blah blah blah new years came, got drunk, threw up. Fantastic night. And I'm finally at the end of this post. BYEEEEE.

Clementine: I wish you'd stayed.
Joel: I wish I'd stayed, too. NOW I wish I'd stayed. I wish I'd done a lot of things. I wish I'd... I wish I'd stayed... I do.