You’re probably wondering how you got here…
Well… to put it cleanly… the rubber slipped up. 💀 what are the odds right, and even more-so what are the odds of it happening to Bruce fucking Wayne??
I mean, it happens to at least 13 people a year, right? And they hooked up a fair couple of times. Bruce is a disciplined and distant man, but even he needs love, connection… distraction.
They weren’t just a fling, your mom and him. There was something there, like a lot of Bruce’s loves it was burned out by lies and secrets.
About a month before she even found out she was pregnant, they parted ways. The emotional fatigue and burnout your mom suffered made her fly back to her country, hoping to go back to her roots, to come down from that toxic high that was Bruce Wayne—but she didn’t expect that very soon she’d find out about you.
You. The first thing she associated you with was nausea, painful cramps, RLS and wooziness, but she couldn’t deny that she felt some kind of motherly pull toward you. Just… not the kind that made you enough to keep or really love. She decided she’d ride you out, take care of herself, give birth to you, then maybe surrogate you? Like Juno, you know? Maybe put you up for adoption?
When she started getting that telltale nausea she had the idea in the back of her mind that she could be pregnant, but how?! The only person she’s been with for at least a year was Bruce, and they always used protection! So does she tell him? They practically just broke up!
She had a few drafted notes lying on her desk, because she couldn’t find it in her to call. Each day your birth just pulled closer and closer. You hate that she didn’t just call. Why didn’t she just damn call???
On the actual day of your birth, she didn’t have anyone with her. No support, no family, just a quiet clinic. How she wanted it. The birth was uncannily quick.. maybe she dissociated through it? Maybe you were eager to come into this world? But the physical and emotional weight of childbirth ended up sinking in after.
She was bedridden for weeks and you just wouldn’t shut up. She still cares, of course she does, the intrusive thoughts she gets of hurting you terrify her, so she consults a few of her friends, accepting their support. Why not consult the father?
Since she hadn’t managed to arrange some kind of surrogacy before she gave birth to you—she and her friends were taking care of you while looking for adoptions. It was getting so overwhelming. Why was it just so hard to get rid of you?
Around 4 months after your birth she finally got into contact with some kind of social care system, which pointed her in the direction to an adoption agency. From there you were gone, and the fatigue and frustration finally started to mellow out.
You were too young to even know what happened, hell, you probably won’t even remember anything. You’re what? 5 months old. You get the bare minimum in childcare until you’re 3 years old, and then you find two middle class ‘do-gooders’ willing to take you. They already have like 6 other adopted kids, now they’re just adding you on?
It’s no surprise that they managed to mess it up. They weren’t physically abusive… more like they just couldn’t meet the needs of someone like you, no one in your ‘support circle’ did.
You can tell because by 12 years old you were catastrophically low in confidence, majorly depressed, probably have the worst school attendance in your year, burnt out and chronically ill. You’re kind of dependent—not a pushover but more like a lost sheep. You still have raging attitude like normal tweens… you just… also can’t do self checkout… 💀
It’s not over yet though! After months or so of more emotional baggage than a telenovela, paper work, legal advice, court, custody disputes, paternity tests and some eccentric rich play boy from new jersey and the woman you now know as your mother having it out in court—you have now had the luxury of meeting your father! And… your mother.
So far they both seem horrible. You’d rather have your adoptive parents and they’re hallmark horrorcore. Now you’re feeling lost, abandoned, like your whole world’s been flipped upside down. You desperately want to leave your body, to just sleep forever. Why is this happening? This is why you have an ‘Eat the rich’ poster on your Amazon wishlist…
The man they called Bruce? It was settled that he’d have custody over you. It was hardly a fight. Your mother still didn’t want you. Your adoptive parents, they’ll probably miss you, but they’ve tripled their kids up since you’ve turned 12 so they’ll be fine.
Now? You’re in a private jet. Bruce is sitting to your left. Not right next to you, but in the next aisle. You don’t know who’s driving, probably some assistant. All your so-called father’s said to you was, “It’ll be ok. I’m bringing you home now,” and he looked constipated while saying it.
Like, ok? What is that supposed to mean? He’s acting like he just rescued you from an SVU episode. You’re thinking ‘is this a social experiment?’ ‘what kind of rich play boy acts like a clinically depressed news reporter?’
