The beginning

This is my me time...late at night. Even though I miss Madeline dearly while she's sleeping and I mostly spend my time messaging/talking about her, I still try to make sure I get some alone time. I have her picture that I just printed next to me and all I can think about is squeezing her when she wakes up.
I feel bad sometimes, like I am enjoying this too much. Unforunately, motherhood started out rough for me. It was with the wrong person, at the wrong age of 16. Yes, I got pregnant at 16...WOW... it's scary to think that's about 4 years from now for my son. Instead of enjoying the pregnancy and becoming a new mom, I went into survival mode from the time he was born until we moved to Pa...making sure he had food, a roof over his head, a strong parent to rely on and knew the importance of knowledge. We went through some hard times, but he never knew and neither did anyone else. PRIDE. That always got the best of me...kept me from asking for help along the way. I have always pushed him. He walked at 9 months, was potty trained at a year, could have a conversation at a year and a half, counted in the hundreds at 2, and so on and so on. I wanted him to excel and not be held back because he was raised by a teenager. I also did not want him to turn out like his bio-jerks family...uneducated drunks. So, I pushed him to succeed and not fail. I think that is all starting to backfire on me now or maybe that is just the preteen swagger kicking in. I hope I did not push him in the direction that I've tried his entire childhood to steer him away from.
Hell of a way to begin this beautiful love called motherhood. I have definitely eased my ways...I'm more like a squishy ball of feelings now. So, maybe that will help me through the teenage years that are approaching.