BabyBrother (the 20-year-old, NOT my half brother) got a girl pregnant.
She's eighteen, just graduated high school. Yes, they were using protection (which malfunctioned), no, they are not together, and they never really dated. She just tested last week. Saw the doctor Monday.
I'm getting all this information from my mother, because BabyBrother isn't talking about this to anyone, really. To be honest, I'm kind of glad he hasn't told me yet himself. The current situation, as I understand it, is that she comes from a decent-sized family that is quite religious. She hasn't told her family yet. BabyBrother is freaking out about money and his life and ruining her life.
I'm feeling proud of myself because I found out on Tuesday and managed to delay my breakdown until last night.
I tried to talk to BoyWonder about offering to adopt it, should they decide not to keep the baby. He was less than thrilled. And I get it. But his reaction ("I really thought that since I had the surgery, we could just be normal," and "We have a lot of time to think about this" and "Your brother isn't the type of person to not raise his own kid once it's here") was valid, and it hurt my feelings I guess. Well, I did cry for more than an hour.
BoyWonder wasn't even comforting--didn't even try to be. It was the first time I've wanted to junk-punch him since I began to suspect his testicles were defective enough without help. I still kind of want to. I know that that's not fair, though. I mean, I don't want to junk-punch BabyBrother, and the whole situation revolves around him (for me and my family, anyway).
But alas, once again I get that whole "Life isn't Fair," lesson. It's my least favorite lesson at this point. Eighteen months past when we started trying to have a family, I've learned I'd be better off to have just tricked BoyWonder into a baby five years ago, instead of doing things the right way.
I feel sad for my brother. I really do. Whatever happens, this isn't an easy decision to make. There isn't a good, easy choice.
I want to at least offer to take the baby. I don't know how to say it without saying "Hey, BabyBrother. I can solve all of your problems if you can just talk the girl you impregnated into giving me your firstborn child." And it's worse to know my own fucking husband isn't really even on board.
Confession: No matter how sad I feel for that girl, or for my brother, no matter how badly I want to hit my husband in the balls for not trying to make me feel less sad, I'm more upset for me than anything else right now. I know that's shitty and selfish and in reality, it's none of my business. I feel crazy. I feel like any reason I have to keep doing right diminishes by the second. Part of me wants to burn my house down and run away. How's that for crazycakes?
So I guess I'll stop whining for now. I have a funeral to go to. And it's a family funeral, so not only can I be surrounded by family, BabyBrother is one of them.
At least I can cry there.
FUCK.
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