Confession

Pregnancy unleashes more than hormones and morning sickness.

It unleashes unsolicited advice from all sorts of people. Anyone feels entitled to give you advice, well-meaning or not. They come from all walks of life, whether they had a kid 60 years ago, yesterday or never had a kid OR worse, is a man, they will want to give you advice.

I've been so tempted to scream them silent but so far, I've held myself back. Amazing grace, I say.

The two people I dread most are my mum and mother-in-law. They don't understand boundaries, thresholds and threaten my fragile sanity at times even when I'm deeply depressed.

I've had a rocky relationship with them for the most of my life and this pregnancy is making it worse. I appreciate the concern although they are severely gender biased towards males and I worry that I'll be made to feel less than a person if the baby was a girl. I've been gifted with bagfuls of boys' clothes when the gender is not even revealed. My mum is slightly more discreet but pregnancy has made me rethink and rock further the relationship between me and my parents.

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I've got issues and I admit it. I came from a less than stellar family and hold deep emotional baggages from the past. I still struggle with nightmares and flashbacks and their hauntings lead to a downward spiral of emotions. It has been years and I wonder if I'll ever be free.

Ironically, instead of making me appreciate my parents for their idiosyncrasies and their warped concern, I have taken to deeply resenting them instead because all these are overshadowed by abuses and neglect of the past. I remember a time when I was severely sick with pneumonia but no one noticed. I was raised by a maid and by the time I was sent to hospital, I had already fainted and vaguely remember the doctor berating my mum harshly. She did absolutely nothing for whatever reason and I was always brought up to believe that I was not worth any attention or feel unloved.

I worry because I am scared I'll grow into their likeness and struggle to obey the commandment to forgive. It is so hard. Many have said to go ahead and just make the choice but somedays, I feel like I'd rather die than forgive them.

I've contemplated cutting them completely out of my life but in moments of weakness, I let them in only to be disappointed all over again. They threaten my fragile state of sanity and of course, happiness. I secretly yearn to be as far and as independent of them as possible. I have mulled over the fact that perhaps, I might regret it one day when they bid their final farewells but on the other hand, I also wonder if that will bring closure. When your abuser, both physical and with neglect passes on, shouldn't that bring relief instead?

My uncles and aunties were victims of terrible physical abuse and they are still scarred well into their 60s. It is evident in everything they do and every facet of their behavior. I fear the curse continued and want to break it but I don't know how. I feel terribly orphaned even as a thirty year old and I know that has adversely affected my relationship with God.

I want a way out but don't know how. The child is but a distraction and I know that somehow, someday, these will be back to haunt me and I will have to face them head on.