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Well...I am twenty nine weeks pregnant. I did live with Edwin for about a month and a half(?) but then he couldn't take the pressure of a child coming in to his life and the drastic change that is to come. So at my third month of pregnancy he kicked me out and I moved back in with my mother. It hurt. A lot. After about two and a half years almost three years of doing so much to be together this happens and he was gone. About seven/eight weeks later he texts me. Then he starts to try to change my mind about him. Telling me he was sorry about what he did and that he f'd up. That he was not ready for our baby but now is. That he loves me and he knows that I have no reason to take him back because of what he did to me. That he is sorry for hurting me. And to give him another chance. That he wants to be her father. Her daddy. (Yes, I have been told it's a girl.) I thought about it for quite some time. Eventually I said okay. I love him. Of course. Why I love? I don't know. But I do. In a February our baby will be due. I do hope he is there when she comes out. I hope he is there before so he can hold my hand and tell me it will be alright and that soon we will be looking at the brat that been making mommy pee so much. That we will see our baby for the first time. Hope is a terrible thing but I can't help but to feel it.