Tubes Tied and Text Tied

Not gonna front, February of 2019 has been a bit challenging to me. Don't get me wrong, it hasn't had shit on anything that happened throughout the whole year of 2017, but still, heavy. To start with, I finally had my day in court with my son's father to get the child support order corrected. When Caleb was in kindergarten, my ex went to court and lied about getting Caleb 50% of the time, significantly lowering what he was ordered to pay. Talk about a punch in the gut. I mean, I physically hurt in that moment. I honestly wanted to drive into a lake. My step mother and incredible friend Christine held me together, in that moment. I considered moving far south, just to get away from him, but logistically, with my job, gas, attending Clark and other things, moving to Newnan just wasn't feasible. On top of that he didn't give me child support for 2 months. May not seem like a lot, but at the time, I was brining home roughly $800 from my part-time job while attending school. My only saving grace was that at the time I'd squirreled away the last of my tax money. But with that 2 months, the last of my tax money quickly evaporated. I had zero food in my refrigerator, and despite my pleas to him, to at least bring some Kroger gift cards or food for his child to eat, my ex was unmoved. Unmoved by the idea of his own child starving smh. In that moment, I contacted his step-mother who was kind enough to give me $60 to feed the kid. Cuz her ain't shit stepson wouldn't.
Moving forward, I tried numerous times to get the child support adjusted. And every damned time, despite it all, my ex was the victor when we went to court.
But this time, I was prepared. I had reached out to a lawyer I went to high school with and she was kind enough to take on my case. She came to court with me, on our date February 14th. That's right, Valentine's Day. Valentine's Day in court with people going through divorces any my child support modification. To make this long story short (I didn't initially intend to include this little tidbit in this blog, but I guess my caramel latte has kicked in, here), my child support order was granted and he ended up order to pay over DOUBLE what he was paying before, in addition to my lawyer's fees.

Talk about a weight being lifted! My goal is now to pay down some of the credit cards I'd used to hold us afloat over the years and then begin putting money into savings for my son. He's an amazing kid and he certainly deserves it. Methinks I'll even treat my little prince to a nice little vacation, either for spring break or this summer.
On other aspects in my life, I'm thinking that within the next two years or so, it may be time for a change on the job front. I love my clients dearly, but I sometimes get frustrated by mental blockages that keep them from reaching their full potential. My goal, while I'm sitting in this quaint little coffeehouse, is to finally start looking up registering to take my social work licensure exam. I'd make a lot more money once I do this. And I know that, but the fact is that I'm still tired as hell from grad school. More studying and chasing people down for reference letters isn't something I want to do. Thankfully I make a glowing impression where ever I go so getting a letter won't be hard at all, but shit, more work! *meh*

So while I'm considering a job change within a year or so, I decided to hurry the hell up and start taking advantage of my insurance, particularly getting a tubal ligation, a.k.a., getting my tubes tied. I tried unsuccessfully to get this done 3 years ago, but I wasn't prepared for the $1k price tag I'd have to pay. And that was actually adjusted for my low pay at the time. What now?! One would think that the government would be lining up to sterilize women making $8.50 an hour working at PetSmart, but I didn't find that to be the case.
Oddly enough, when I first met Pete, I was 36 and largely knew I didn't want any more children. I was kind of shocked when he told me he'd had a vasectomy. I really had to think about that. I was genuinely still on the fence. But once he died and I went through my grief process, once I awoke nearly a year later, I was quite sure that I didn't want anymore kids. I was done. I've been dragging my feet on it, but the time is now. I'm 38 and ready to start traveling and living my life. Wiping noses and asses is not on my agenda, unless we're talking about my parents. I contacted my insurance company the other day to learn that tubal ligation is free. Hot damn!! I was geeked. I read up a bit on it and readied myself. I even called my doctor and set a March date for the referral. Once the referral hits, I can do the procedure almost immediately after.

That night, I had the strangest of dreams. I dreamt that I'd been fooling around with Fred (lawd, I almost typed his real name there for a sec lol) and that I'd gotten pregnant. In my dream, I was too far along to abort the child, so I contacted him to let him know we were having a kid. He was okay with that. But then later in my dream, I learned that I was in fact early enough to abort the child and I contacted him to inform him that I planned not to have it. In that dream he begged me not to term his child. I woke up so conflicted. I went from "shit yeah, burn these damned tubes pronto!!" to still wanting them tied, but not nearly as excited. There is no doubt that I don't want any more kids. Well- scratch that. I'd love to adopt or even date a man who has kids and love on his like my own, but the idea of another 9 months of pregnancy, labor, and mothering an infant ain't in my cards, even a little.
I contacted Fred about my recent desire to get this permanently done, followed by my dream about us having a kid. Fred, Mr. No-Frills, quickly said "we aren't having any kids." Well no shit, Sherlock. But still, my nerves are shot. I contacted two of my riders for the last 25 years, Shaunnika and Courtney. They both agreed (along with the rest of the world) that "Malika don't need no more kids." I told them about my nervousness and they assured me that it was nothing to fear. They even said that they'd come with me to get the procedure done. God, I love them.
My next text was to Ted. I told him that I'd been all on board to get it done until my dream. Needless to say, I didn't mention the particulars of exactly who I was pregnant by in it. Being typical Ted, he told me not to worry. But then he quickly followed with a text that said "good because I like pleasing you" followed by "you felt good yesterday." The only problem is that I haven't seen his ass in two fucking weeks!

He immediately recognized his mistake and apologized profusely. But the damage was done. He sent about 5 or 6 text messages apologizing, but I haven't responded. I mean, exactly how does one respond to that? Yes, I'm well aware that we're open. He is not my man or boyfriend, or husband, any of that. But when I called him the night before and he didn't answer, now I know why. I just can't shake that. Sometimes I want him to contact me, crazy enough. I want him to apologize again. I genuinely have no words for him right now. None. I want to cry. My eyes have watered a little. But I won't let it happen.

I'm not sure when or if I'll see him again. As always, there are a few potentials hanging around, and one in particular I'm growing more fond of. I mean, yeah, the sex was great. But I just don't know how to come back from that.
So yeah, this is how my February 2019 is wrapping up. Tons of growth to begin looking at. I guess I'll start working on my LMSW application now. *sigh*