that lemon-sucking-lookin' old hag

I'm having a girl!

Just found it out on last week's ultrasound. I'm 23 weeks (damn near 6 months!), the baby is at 1 pound 12 oz and extremely active and healthy, my stomach is ENORMOUS (I've never weighed over a buck thirty-five in all my 22 years on earth, and now I'm close to a buck fifty!), and the baby is almost definitely female. I wanted a girl right from the start, when I first learned I was pregnant- well, maybe not right away, more when I first accepted that I was pregnant and had to do something about it besides shooting heroin and hoping everything would work out ok. I'm gonna name her Jasmyne- Jazzie or Jaz would be the nickname, which I like also. I should be happy about all this...

...but for some reason I'm not. I'm starting to seriously resent this little girl, and she isn't even born yet. I suppose that makes me a bad person, and honestly I don't care one way or another if folks think I'm awful. I don't live to impress a damn soul on this earth and I'm not gonna start now. But I don't like feeling like a terrible person to myself- that matters to me while other people's opinions never have. Part of me is excited about having a kid - especially a daughter! - while part of me wishes this whole thing had never happened. I wish I hadn't got myself knocked up, wish I hadn't signed up for the methadone program, wish I hadn't been forced to move in with my parents, wish I could still shoot coke every once in a while without agonizing over the repercussions. I find myself blaming poor little unborn Jaz when I know full well that all of this is my fault and my decision.

I'm pissed off because I lost my freedom to choose what I wanted to do to myself and my body. Mind-altering chemicals and botanicals have been my comfort and my crutch for many years, and suddenly these same substances could turn me from a casual drug user committing a victimless crime into a cold-blooded murderer. Shit, I don't want to be a fucking murderer! So I got on methadone in order to stop heroin (my ob/gyn told me that because of my substantial habit, even a medically controlled detox would put the baby at risk for neonate abstinence syndrome [NAS] which could cripple or even kill her and that methadone maintenance was the best and safest route for both me and the baby- so all those haters who diss me for my 'done habit can go fuck themselves), stopped sticking needles in myself, stopped taking xanax and valium, stopped chewing up strong painkillers, stopped abusing psych meds (or taking them at all), stopped my occasional coke parties, stopped smoking rock, stopped even THINKING about meth, stopped working the streets, stopped taunting the police, stopped hanging out with my junkie buddies, stopped eating so much McDonalds, pretty much gave up my life. I can hear the shit-slingers now: "What life? Sucking dick on the street for a pathetic shot of dope to keep you from puking and seizuring isn't a life!" and all that bullshit. But believe it or not, you can get used to anything and once you get used to something, it becomes familiar and comfortable. I may not have been happy doing what I did, but there was no doubt in my mind that I was very comfortable and had no real thoughts of changing my life. That is, until Jasmyne's existence was discovered and made a reality.

Now, I'm even trying to quit smoking cigarettes! I'll admit I'm not succeeding, but I am down to 2-4 cigarettes a day which is less than I've ever smoked. Even when I stopped drugs and started doing good for baby, I couldn't go below 10 cigs (half a pack) per day. Greggie took me to Cracker Barrel and bought 100 of those candy sticks to help with the oral fixation. He told me that I needed something to suck on when he wasn't around. Jaz is currently very healthy with no ill effects from my smoking, but if I keep going with it, things may change for the worse- so quitting smoking (or even cutting down a lot, which is what I've actually accomplished) is a very good thing.

So why do I hate it so much?

I stare longingly at the 3 coffin-nails I've allotted myself for the day and anticipate lighting them, smoking them, tasting them. Mmmmmmmm, delicious nicotine. I don't know if I can stop, I'm having a hell of a time just keeping my smoke-intake down to a couple. I feel like it's the only chemical pleasure I have left, and it's being taken away from me like the rest of it was- yes, I know, all my fault, the baby is innocent and I am guilty as charged. This is just how I think a lot of the time and my blog is the perfect place for these irrational thoughts since it's my blog. I'm smoking more pot than normal, substituting a joint or bowl for a cig when I have really bad nic-attacks. Reefer may be bad for us (me and Jaz), but it's better for us than cigs, especially since this pot-overload is only temporary until I either manage to quit completely, or give up and start smoking my 10 cigs a day again. I hate not smoking and am very resentful that I'm being "forced" to stop, but in reality no one is forcing me- I just want this little girl to have every chance I can give her, especially after all the BS I put her through, intentionally or unintentionally, in the first 2 months of her pre-existence. I don't want to give up on this smoking cessation thing. I've got an appointment with a drug-free hypnotist who claims to help folks kick the habit- can't hurt, right? I'm gonna come outta this a winner. Jasmyne is gonna come out of this a winner! Hooray!

I've been having bad nightmares interspersed with drug-dreams every night, in fact just about every time I sleep at all even to take an hour-long nap. I'm gonna try to increase my dose at the meth clinic which is supposed to combat cravings and put the brakes on those dope filled dreams. They wouldn't be a problem, but shooting up in my dreams feels so goddamn real that when I wake up I'm actually dopesick (although only for a few minutes), shaking, and drenched in nasty cold sweat. It sucks!

The clinic isn't running real smoothly at the moment though. Apparently there was some sort of illegal shit going on behind the scenes (to the best of my knowledge it involved money but not drugs) and corporate came and fired just about everyone. There is one counselor left (not mine) and 2 nurses. Today both nurses had a sour-faced old lady (I assume someone from the corporate office?) hanging out literally over their shoulders while they gave out the bottles of 'done. The poor nurses were doing everything super obviously, explaining shit that didn't have to be explained and basically making the very long line move slowly. All take-homes have been put on hold, which makes the daily lines 4x longer than usual. I feel bad for the nurses- obviously they did something right since they kep their jobs, and yet they are being watched by that lemon-sucking-lookin' old hag. Sucks to be them- and sucks to be us, in them long-ass lines!

Other than the random hate in my head, things have been pretty cool. I been to the beach 3 or 4 times in the past 2 weeks (but haven't been to the same beach twice yet- a definite perk of living in SoFla!) and swimming in the pool even more than that. I got my first sunburn of the summer, followed by the second and the third. So far I've visited Singer Island beach, Lake Worth beach, Boynton Beach boat docks (which has a beach within walking distance), Ft Lauderdale beach, and Hollywood beach- summer hasn't even started yet! I love the beach, and the ocean, and going swimming- basically I love living in this part of the US. Greg and I are each buying a water donut (he calls it an "inner tube" or "tire tube", but it's still a water donut) to take in the ocean so we can tan right in the ocean- get dark without getting overheated. Floating around on the waves on a big inflated water donut... I'm so excited. I bet they sell big water donuts at Walmarts, seeing that they sell damn near everything.

That's it! Now just replies... and I've been looking forward to answering these comments since I started reading 'em!!

**selected replies**

"As your kid starts growing up, like all children, he'll be FULL of questions. So are you going to tell him the truth? Will you tell him you are a heroin addict and a prostitute?"

When she is old enough to understand? Of course I will! I'm not gonna lay the truth on her on her first week of kindergarten of course, but I'm gonna try to be honest with my kid. If she asks, I'll tell her all about the bullshit I went through with drugs. Hell, maybe she'll learn from MY mistakes instead of having to make the same mistakes of her own. And I'll teach her that her body is nothing to be ashamed of! Hah! I swear, I'd be a nudist if it wasn't against the law. Stupid indecent exposure laws. What retard decided that the human body was "indecent" anyhow?

"And you are an idiot if you believe she is not still doing heroin. And smoking pot every day also means you are a drug addict."

Why do you believe me when I say I smoke pot every day, but you don't believe me when I say I'm not doing heroin? Am I a liar, or not? You can't have it both ways. Either doubt every word I write on here, or believe it all- otherwise you're just a stupid hypocrite.

"I was 'staying' somewhere michelle was. Greg came to pick her up. I even saw the famous camper. Remember?She took this picture in a RV show. Always a liar."

Before you accuse me of lying, read. When did I claim that camper as my own, or even Greg's? No, it was not taken at an RV show, and neither does it belong to Greggie. It's Greg's parents' camper, parked in their front yard! I just posed for and posted those pics because I had been called trailer trash a couple times and thought it would be appropriate. But no, I did not lie because I never said that was my/Greg's camper. Cool? Good.

"Hey Rob, how far did you chase after camper as it was leaving ?Are you more pissed that she's told everyone that you have a needle dick or that she's told everyone that you have a needle dick that you can't even keep hard ?You still going to push for a paternity test big boy ?"

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

Jesus H Christ on a fucking rubber crutch, that is the funniest thing I've read in a long time! Thank you, whoever wrote that! Hahahahahaha!

"What happened to the DC Madam???"

I have no idea what that's about...

"Who is Margie Schoedinger?"

I have no idea what that's about...

"A dead nigger who accused Bush of rape ? -Shelley"

I have no idea what that's about either, but I didn't write that anywhere. Sure, I throw around "the n-word" but I don't know what any of this is about. Remember, anything I write on the comments section is signed with the blue name (michelle or shelley) and it links to one of my profiles. If it's by "anonymous" with my name typed at the bottom- it's an imposter! Hah! Why would anyone actually WANT to be me, even for pretend?

"Those bathing suit pics. How many weeks are you in those?"

20 or 21 weeks- that was right at the beginning of my 5th month.

"Your blog was so good only with the stories that you write.Don't put more pictures, sorry but is not working."

Did ya see the first part of the sentence that ya wrote? The part where it says "your blog"? Well, what that means to me is that I can post whatever the hell I want. Thanks for your random uncalled-for opinion though. I like my pics and am not ashamed of what I look like, even though I am getting quite fat and round. So, in the immortal words of Eric Cartman of South Park: "Whateva! Whateva, bitch, I do what I want!"

Thank you all for reading!