Two years after that dreadful mistake – I’d emerged from my depression enough to begin to socialize a bit more. With such little self confidence and feeling as though I didn’t deserve to be treated good by anyone, let alone a partner, I accepted what was right in front of me.

I dated that man for over a year before I realized his life of drugs and alcohol were not something I wanted to be involved with. I was not into drugs and drinking had taken enough from me.

After passing out one night for a few hours, I woke up to get some water. When I walked out of the bedroom, I saw the man I was dating kissing on another girl. It was at that point, I knew I had to get out while I could – before I fell in too deep.

The next day I packed my belongings and headed home. The next few days I spent looking for a new job and getting my life back in order or at least putting a plan together to get there.

Several weeks passed and life was improving – I could see the darkness fading from under my eyes, the size 0 I’d become was slowly returning to the 5 I wanted to be. Things were good!

Next thing I knew, I had that same old sinus infection returning that I’d had a couple months prior. So I returned to the doctor to get checked up and get my next round of antibiotics.

It was during this doctors visit that I found out I was pregnant. Apparently my doctor had forgotten to tell me that the antibiotics I took on the first sinus infection caused issues with my pill – and stupid me, I didn’t read inserts at the time – so here I was, pregnant by the lowest form of life possible.

This time I would do this – I would not revisit the same decision I had before – I could do this on my own, with my family as a strong support, I’d be fine.

A few weeks passed when I had my first ultrasound. It was a that time I was told I was expecting twins. The doctor went on telling me all the warnings, risks, etc.

I knew at that point, I had to get back with their dad – and make it work, at least for a while. I needed insurance and I needed to be home with my babies after they arrived.

I went back to him – told him I was pregnant with twins in October. We made plans and married that December.

The day I married him, I remember my grandmother begging me not to marry him. She and my grandpa urged me to move with them and let them help me.

Me not wanting to be a burden, I had to do things my way.

I felt like God had forgiven me for what I had done before and was now giving me two babies to show his forgiveness. How could I not be grateful?

And so she emerges…

I’ve been having one of those ‘weeks’ since just before Christmas. I’ve sunk to a level of depression that’s so difficult to dig myself out from under. Try as I might to adhere to the powers of positive thinking or law of attraction, I struggle – every. single. day. Struggle with a disgust in myself for allowing myself to be taken in by not one man – but four!

I’m such a hopeless romantic and love being a wife, mother and homemaker. Allowing my desire to be that homemaker caused my heart to be blinded. As a result, I wound up choosing the wrong men.

The first choice was after I’d left the one man I ever really loved and who set the bar on how I wanted to be treated. We’d broken up and I moved back to the rural area I grew up in, away from the city – away from him.

You see, I’d made the ultimate sacrifice for him. After we’d dated for over a year, I found out I was pregnant. I knew going into the relationship that he was Jewish and nothing could come of us – so I took every precaution I could to make sure an accident wouldn’t happen.

I don’t even recall what happened or how it happened. I thought I was doing everything to keep it from happening.

After finding out, I thought about my situation for a couple of days, wondering how I would tell him – how he would react and what would become of us. I knew we couldn’t be together as husband and wife because his family would never allow it – but I certainly didn’t anticipate the reaction and response I got.

When I phoned him, he was preparing for a trip out of state. I told him I needed to talk to him when he got back. He could tell something was wrong – so he pushed me to tell him. When I did, his response was simply and very matter-of-factly  “you know what you’ve gotta do and I’ll pay for it.”

I was crushed.

I sunk into an agonizing depression wishing for a miracle or wishing for death to take me in my sleep. Neither ever came.

When he returned from his trip – he’d stopped off at my apartment while I was at work. He slid a check and a note under the door. The note simply stated he could not and would not ever be a father like a child should have and he’d made arrangements at a local clinic. He closed with an offer to drive me beside it, a date and time.

I wanted to die.

The next time I talked to him, I was broken – completely shattered. He spilled his thoughts and let me know if I genuinely loved him, I would do what he asked.

I was 22 at the time.

I did what he wanted.

After that horrible experience, I felt I’d fallen to the bottom of the barrel. I felt like trash, like I didn’t deserve to be treated good, with respect, with love. I was a horrible person and deserved nothing better.

Two years, a very long drinking binge later – that’s what I found and what I got.