I Didn't Know What Hell Was

 I thought those 3 days in jail were the worst thing ever...boy was I wrong. I thought I had lived through hell for those 3 days but I didn't know what hell was , yet. So I got out and for some stupid reason went right back to the same guy and this in turn, made me start using again. I thought I LOVED him. I thought I could help change him maybe if I changed, but all we did was feed each other's addiction and issues and we were (as much as I hate to admit it) toxic for each other. You never don't want a relationship to work out. I mean, I really was determined to make this works because I was, first of all stubborn as a mule and dead set on proving everyone wrong (you'll learn that about me; if you tell me I can't do something then I most certainly will do everything I can to show you I CAN) and convinced that it wasn't his fault, he was the way he was which, was emotionally, psychologically and verbally abusive to me, especially towards the end when I weighed 92lbs and looked like I could die any moment, because he wasn't raised right which wasn't HIS fault. But throughout the relationship our drug use progressed from pills to heroin, but I'll tell you that part later. However, prior to that, I got pregnant. I actually got pregnant twice but the first time I was so far down in addiction I couldn't imagine bringing a child into the world so I had an abortion. NO, I am NOT proud of it and I don't know if I even believe in it now, now that I am on my walk with God and finally let Him into my life and my heart and my spirit. But the second time, I decided I couldn't do that again so I sought help from a local, outpatient drug treatment facility. I was put on buprenorphine (Subutex) which keeps you from going into withdrawal and is "safe" for the baby. After I found out I was pregnant, I didn't touch a drug, except my prescription. I did everything right. I was able to live at my grandma's while she had nurses and full time care in and out and I helped out some. I had my own room and just slept a lot and cried a lot because, at the time, all I wanted was to spend time with Kenny, the father of the child and the "love of my life", or so I thought. My father even ended up running a drop cord to my car, which was parked in his driveway, so he could hook up a heater for Kenny so he could sleep in the car because him and his father (someone I DETEST) had been in a fight and it was the middle of January. So, again, being the stubborn girl I am, I got my down comforter and pillows and I went out there and slept in the car with him, full term pregnant. Full term pregnant and sleeping in a car. He wasn't allowed in my grandma's because mostly the family hated him but they said it was because we weren't married. But on January 25th, the best gift in the world came to me in the form of Hayden Keener. My baby boy was born. And as excited as I was, I knew what was next; Hayden now had to be withdrawn from the buprenorphine and they do this in the NICU with morphine. They use this scale called the Apgar Scale which gages the baby's withdraw symptoms with numbers and they higher the number the worse the symptoms. About 24 hours after he was born, Hayden started showing withdraw signs and I have never felt pain like that before because I was the one who did that to him. But my doctor said she couldn't take me off because THAT was even more dangerous to the baby because they couldn't control anything while the baby was in the womb. IF the baby went into withdrawal inside me, there was a chance he could die and I wasn't taking that chance for sure. So, we spent 3 months in the hospital with him. I NEVER left his side except to go eat and take a shower. The NICU has showers and sleep rooms and a place to do laundry for the families of the babies so that was nice but all of Kenny's paycheck (yes, he was actually working) went to us eating while we lived at the hospital. Hospital food is expensive when you're not a patient. But we hung in there. Every time they would take Hayden's morphine dose down, his scores would go up so they had to give him more morphine. I told them they were stepping him down in too big of increments (but what did I know, in their eyes I was just a addict junkie who hurt her baby, or at least that's how I was made to feel by the nurses in the Betty H. Camron Women's and Children's Hospital, a subset of New Hanover Regional Medical Center in Wilmington, NC), I told them they just needed to adjust the dose to be a little higher and this wouldn't keep happening. Well after about 3 times of this happening they finally listened to me and adjusted his dose and guess what...everything started running smoother and his health improved. I don't care what ANYONE says, Moms know their kids and we have a special connection that allows us to know what our children need. So in March of 2013, I brought home a beautiful, healthy and sweet baby boy. In may of 2013, I made a horrible decision and married Kenny Keener. Ugh, typing his name just makes me nauseous. But then, he was allowed to move into my Grandma's who had unfortunately passed while I was in the hospital, that is the only time I did leave. I couldn't miss my Grandma's funeral. She was like a mother to me my whole life. That was a sad, sad time. But she had dementia really bad so we had sort of lost her long before that, if that makes sense. I know it will to some of you. So, we're married and one day go to the beach and I turn around and see Jonathan Hedgpeth standing there with a cooler. He, Kenny and I all went to school together from about 8th grade. So, after some conversation, Jonathan ended up getting Kenny a job (since he had lost his for breaking a tool) and little did any of us know at the time but that started a ball rolling that hasn't stopped yet. More to come later. If you enjoy what you are reading, please subscribe and sign up for the email list. I don't send out emails as of now but for future reference, I'd love to have your email.