Ask me Now! This is not a choice.

Dear Journal…

Have you ever woke up one day and suddenly had an epiphany, wondering where your life has gone?

Nah, Me neither.

I mean, here I am, several time cheerleading coach champion and my only regret is that I didn’t scrub my pool tiles with that sponge bob square pants lookalikes massive forehead.

I am at the point in my life however, where I want something to continue on after the star that is Coach Sue Sylvester departs this land of purgatory and ascends into an even higher form of Godliness. I want to gift the world with more than my memories but with a special part of me.

If God did so then why can’t I?

In about eight months time, I am to bestow unto this most indebted and auspicious world, the fruit of my loins, the air from my lungs, their very own Sylvester offspring, grown from the most perfect and valuable genes that both I and money have to offer.

Am I excited? Mainly nauseous but then it is hard to differentiate whether that is from the little foetus or simply from the appalling choreography presented by my Cheerleading Squad. Honestly, not even the temptation of strapping one of them to the side of a rocket and launching it into space with them screaming cheers could save this diabolical excuse for a performance from bombing hard into the ground.

On the bright side (Because I must always be optimistic as that is the type of wonderful teacher that I am) I think my cheerleaders have found the cure for Insomnia and therefore at the very least I can sell them off to some scientific laboratory to become test subjects. I hope it will be as painful as the torture they have inflicted on me the past few weeks with their dancing efforts that have been quite frankly an eyesore.

Back to my mini-foetus…

It seems the child in my stomach that is hardly old enough to be considered a blob is already taking after its mother. I am sure I felt it doing some serious gymnastics the other night. Then again… I do think that curry I had might have been a little dodgy.

I have been trying to imagine whether they will be a girl or a boy, and there is also the slight concern that they will end up with the same condition that my sister had. I know I would never abandon my child if that were the case but of course it raises unease and anxiety within me, feelings that don’t often occur at all with Sue Sylvester.

But what if…

I know how to cope for the most part, I always did with my sister but a little baby is different. What is more, I will have to go through the same despair I felt with Jean, knowing that their life will be radically shortened. If they are lucky enough to outlive me, who would take care of them then? There is no father after all, no one discernable who I could consider family, it is going to be just the two of us.

Still, best not to linger on the what if’s and only deal with the certainties, correct?

The certainty is that I am having a child. A baby. I am going to be a mother.

Now there is only one other puzzlement.

What should I call them?

I was thinking Jean…

I might have to think on this though.

Write to you again soon,

Sue Sylvester.