Venting (A Tribute to You)

So apparently people like to go around posting people's names out and things like that. In order for you to classify as a real woman, you wouldn't go around slandering someone else's name. I must be that important to have been mentioned in your blog, and for that I applaud you. I might even make my next rap about you because you've made so important. Am I a hot commodity to you?

I'm so sick  and tired of these weak people trying to proclaim that I am keeping my child's father from my daughter. Was I keeping him from her when I had bleeding scares in Massachusetts and he ignored my phone calls? Was I keeping him from her when for four days in the hospital, even after we BOTH said some foul things to one another, I was sending him pictures and calling him to tell him that she was here? Or better yet, was I keeping him from her when I told him that she had a heart murmur just like him even though he kept calling me out of my name? It's funny because even when we argue, I STILL keep him up to date as to what goes on with her, and if any problems may have arrived. The only time I EVER told him he couldn't come down here is when I said that I wasn't sure if I wanted him here for her birth and when he blatantly told me that he wasn't going to come a week before she was born.

First off, my labor is exactly that. MY LABOR. So if I choose to not let people come to the hospital, then I have that right. I'm not going to be stressed out with basic nonsense from basic people, when my main concern is my daughter while I'm in labor. That's exactly why I told him that his mother could not come. I never said that she couldn't see her, I merely stated that I would prefer if she waited until after she was born. But apparently that wasn't good enough. Second of all, he made the decision himself to not come down here. I never told him to stay. He had my address, and up until the point where he got belligerent did I tell him that he could not come down here anymore. Don't have some random hoodrat texting MY phone at one o'clock in the morning when I just got home from having a c-section, and expect things to go in your favor. He's very controlling, and I guess if that's what you're into then go for it.

My last thoughts on the matter? Don't tell me to tell you what's on my mind before you come and when I do you get mad and tell me you won't come anymore. I think when I told you what I had to say, you were still in Massachusetts. And everything that I said had something to do with my daughter. You went from telling me that you would talk to your mother about me living in your house with you, to you telling me that you would pat for an apartment for me until I was able to work again. But how would that work when it seems like you're never at work, and whenever you get mad at me,  you don't want to help me out BECAUSE you're mad? So because I questioned your motives, you got mad and once again proved me right. Because you said you wouldn't help me and that you wouldn't come see her because I didn't keep conversations about JUST HER. But isn't that pertaining to my child though? Why would I move somewhere that I wasn't absolutely sure that I had help KNOWING that I had a huge responsibility. The ironic thing is, in the same sentence that you "Told" me to keep the conversations about my daughter, you turned around and told me all of your business. I could care less what you're doing with your life. I never asked any of that, so I'm still confused as to why I'm being informed by the both of you as to your plans. Do I tell you about my life? Or about what I do with my daughter? Didn't think so.

Not to mention, I refuse to have someone disrespect me as a parent. I am doing everything in my power to ensure that my daughter has a bright and positive future. Including keeping my emotions in check so she doesn't see me getting mad at these random low-lives who keep trying to ruin mine. Being a parent constitutes more than donating sperm and buying things, I have pointed out so many times. I wake up in the middle of the night every night with her, barely catching any shut-eye, changing diapers, giving baths, cleaning up spit-up, breastfeeding, and making sure that SHE is content. Half the time I forget to even feed myself because my main focus is no longer myself, it is my daughter. So do not dare open your mouth and tell me I'm not a mother. I refuse to let a bipolar, psycho-maniac, unstable person who beats up their sister for calling him selfish be around my daughter. Now that I will not permit. And with that said, continue checking for more updates since you like to stalk my life. That is all.