it is March 1, 2020. my son would have been two years old.

i imagine there would be racecars, or Paw Patrol cupcakes ( tbh I probably wouldn’t even feed him anything sugary ) and a whole bunch of family kissing his cheeks. the smell of buttercreme, stepping music, or my mom singing and laughter would fill the air.

instead, I am awake after performing 3 times in a day. throat feeling a lil choked up. in a silent house. there is no cake. no music. my sons ashes sitting in the corner of my window next to the flowers a guy I really love got him for his birthday.

” to David Kwynton, may your spirit rest easy among the stars”.

it has been two years since I gave birth to my stillborn son. this year, I am feeling more angry,embarassed, sad and lonely. really lonely.

when I first found out that I was pregnant, I thought about getting an abortion. honestly, because I did not think I could live with the shame of my mother having a grandchild out of wedlock + I knew a pregnancy wasn’t something my X wanted ( even tho all of his pillow talk consisted of him telling me how bad he wanted me to have his kids * eye roll* ) being pregnant just didn’t seem like the right time. i just started grad school, just started this relationship…but I wanted to give God a try. I thought that God did not make any mistakes so this baby is meant to be here.

throughout the entire pregnancy, I was stressed. there was so much turmoil. fighting with my X during the time, thinking about $$$ because I was unemployed, without insurance and had no car, and I was trying to mend a relationship between my X andhis family with my family. it was a lot. I just kept telling myself that when the baby gets here, things will get better. David( my X) wouldn’t cheat on me anymore + find me attractive, both of our families will be able to work things out and I will find a job.

but there was this thought, ever looming thought, that a baby did not fit. I remember I was selecting a stroller for my Daddy to buy and I kept thinking where was the stroller and a bed gonna fit in my mom’s apartment? was I gonna stay in my mom’s apartment? how is this about to work?

worry.worry.worry. stress. stress. stress.

two years later, I am still mourning my son. however, a part of me is relieved that I do not have to deal with my abusive X, his family/friends any more.

there is a part of me that knows that God is the best father to my son.

there is a part of me that knows that Heaven is where any mother would want their son to be + for that I am grateful.

I have a full time job, working in CPS as a resource coordinator. my main responsibilities include after school programming, parent engagment and summer programming. Literally working with kids all the time at a elementary school has helped me so much. I see the cuteness of kids as well as the not so cute.

I have also taken the time to love my body again. I did some nude modeling for Depaul University, tried differnt hairstyles and started going on solo dates.

of course I am still triggered by my X, Chicago is a small city and I see a white sedan or CSU or his friends all the time. but I also have been surrounded by so much love. i have performed on Windy City Live, officially own a LLC, and saving up for my car.

I am still unsure as to why God did what God did. idk either to teach me a lesson, or maybe to help someone else out…but all I do know is that I love my son David Kwynton. & 3/1/2018 will always and forever be a date that has changed my life.