Not Yet a Woman

by WC Child

  He slowly moved my emotions toward emancipation and I kept following his lead. I was two different people; one person at home and another when I was around Adam. If Big Mama knew of the inappropriate, but liberating touching that went on between us, she would question the deviation from my home training. No doubt she would forbid further contact with him. But clearly, she was too old to understand how much joy Adam brought to my life. I knew I was loved by my father and Big Daddy, but what I experienced with Adam was different. I knew that I loved him and he often professed his love for me. That was what mattered most. The rest would have to work itself out based on our love.

  One of Big Mama's cardinal rules was that Adam couldn’t be in the house while they weren’t at home. It was not by accident that we broke her rule. It was time to prove my love for Adam. One week prior, Big Mama had the "talk" with me again. Maybe she sensed our intentions and wanted to fortify my resolve. She reiterated the need to guard the change in my pocketbook from interloping males who looked to conquer the next naive female. I knew she meant well, but I was old enough to make my own decisions about my body. The first time my intimate space was entered, it was on someone else's terms. This time it would be my decision.

  Chapter 21

  My Change

  It started with a gentle kiss and moved rapidly toward a more forceful and passionate tenure. Adam looked deeply into my eyes and professed his love for me. Unbridled desire coursed through our bodies after we removed our garments and liberated our bodies. Without shame, we willingly exposed our exterior and interior beings. We marveled at each other’s temple. It was nothing like the intruding eyes of my attacker who relied on opportunity and cracks in doors to catch glimpses of my exposed body. He breathlessly whispered in my ear how beautiful I was as he began to lead me further into our love journey. I committed myself fully to the long-awaited natural rite of passage to womanhood.

  The gentleness of his touch was feathery and soothing. He caressed my body and planted quick kisses on my face and neck. Although immersed in the moment, pieces of my mind traveled back to my only other encounter with the opposite sex. When the brutal memories tried to encroach on my happiness, I shunned those thoughts. It was a different experience, even though biologically the same. The bonds we formed during our courtship made the closeness of our bodies seem so natural. Innocence bred bravery and I explored places on his body that responded to my touch. Passionate kisses and caresses drew me further into inevitability. He stroked my breasts before he suckled them like a newborn babe looking for milk. My mind couldn’t keep up with the pace of desire. Each new feeling longed to be remembered, but I couldn’t think, I could only feel and absorb.

  Taking directions from our bodies, he moved on me with measured pressure that served as the gateway to unexpected plateaus. I matched his rhythm to receive a deeper connection that occurred as naturally as breathing. All I could focus on was the anticipation of the next movement and the newness of carnal desires meant to be sacredly shared in marriage. A myriad of emotional, sensual and physical sensations collided. They culminated in involuntary spasms of release that couldn’t be contained within the limits of my body. I savored the sensations that no longer were confined within me. Waves of contentment cascaded through my body and fell off the tips of my appendages. Only tiny mists of perspiration and exhaustion remained. I realized I was no longer a virgin.

  I cuddled with Adam, content with my decision to unite our bodies. Our love union felt different than I could have ever imagined. It was soft, intimate and beautiful. I was in awe of the powerful electricity that could be generated by two willing bodies. Ironically, in the same bed where a life drained from me, a cauldron of pleasure was revealed to me. I wondered why Big Mama left out the pleasure details during our “talks”.

  What a night it had been. I began to understand the complexity of the human body and how perception can be altered by circumstances. If those feelings were the ultimate objective of intimate human companionship, I understood how sound reasoning became fickle when the union of the heart and body were joined by passion. I gained insight into, but did not condone, the actions of my offender. After that night, I knew there would be a need for water hoses in my future.

  Being with a man was intoxicating. Once the joys of fleshly desires were unlocked, I wanted more. Our first time was so beautiful. I wanted the opportunity to recapture the magical tension of that first encounter. It was illogical to deny myself the hidden pleasures I discovered that were far more valuable than the leprechaun’s rainbow treasure. I considered myself a woman with yearnings that could only be quenched by the love of Adam.

  I had grown folks’ business of my own to conceal and I definitely knew how to keep a secret. We became reckless and deceitful after our initial encounter. I lied to my grandparents, skipped school and violated any location and space available for our secret sessions. I better understood some of my mother’s choices about the importance of male companionship. I was Adam’s woman. Our love grew stronger each time we added to the depth of our commitment. Nothing meant more to me than the love we shared. Nothing, not even the hostile tactics of Big Mama, could tear us apart.

  Chapter 22

  Bundle Up

  The smell of Big Mama’s breakfast wafted up the stairs to my nostrils. Usually I welcomed the aroma and quickly made my way downstairs for breakfast. That day, I scampered to the bathroom before the contents of my stomach exposed themselves. I opted to take extra time in the bathroom and limited my food consumption to dry toast. The intermittent uncooperative nature of my stomach continued for weeks. Big Mama noticed it. I was concerned by the quizzical stares and her overall body language toward me. One morning she asked, “Is there something you need to tell me?” My mouth said no, but my mind was not sure.

  During the ride to school, I experienced a light bulb moment. The word pregnant popped into my mind. I couldn't believe it hadn't been the first diagnosis of my internal rebellion. I had been with child previously, but nothing about that situation was normal. I didn’t want to remember anything about that agonizing event. I tried to bury every aspect of that time in the woods behind our house. I understood the anatomy of reproduction and our bodies connected enough to have required several sessions with the water hose. If my suspicions were correct, the trajectory of my life would shift drastically.

  We met at my locker between second and third period. Our normal embrace was supplemented by my whispered suspicions. He reacted as if he had come in contact with a hot surface. The nervous chuckle demonstrated the unexpected nature of my news. He fought hard to keep his composure. As we walked to my classroom, we agreed to suspend our conversation until later. At lunch, we talked about how many times we had spent my pocketbook change and the last time Mother Nature visited me. The preliminary calculations did not add up in our favor. The suspense was over when the drugstore test gave me a passing fertility grade. We were speechless. The consequences of our actions were staring us right in the face. Neither one of us was prepared for that diagnosis. We had no plan, except to keep the secret between the two of us.

  Our emotional responses to this situation were different. When we looked into each other's eyes, I saw that Adam was panic-stricken by the confirmation of our suspicions. I didn't know what troubled him most; fatherhood or the fact that Big Daddy would make his rifle part of our immediate future. Either we would be standing with the preacher or Big Daddy would shoot him once the news came to light. My bet was on his getting shot.

  I, on the other hand, had to conceal my joy. I was going to be a mother. We had conceived our child in love. It would be loved and it would love me unconditionally. I was elated. Unlike my other foray into motherhood, I would be able to proudly display my maternal status. I would participate in all the normal celebratory things that accompanied the impending birth of a child. Finally, I would have my own family unit. I was ready for that happy chapter in my life to begin.

  Chapter 23

  Sun
day Dinner

  Another month passed and still no resolution existed for us. Consequently, my clothes got smaller, my appetite got larger and Big Mama’s suspicious looks lingered longer. Time for stalling was up. We were forced to break our news to my family. We decided Sunday dinner would be the safest place for the exchange of this kind of information. I hoped the residual effect of Sunday preaching and the presence of the Holy Spirit lingered long enough for us to tell our truth without anyone getting hurt.

  To say we were uneasy about this announcement was an understatement. I had traveled down the unexpected discovery road before, but from an entirely different direction. My first voyage to motherhood started from a place of predatory dominance. In contrast, our journey started from a place of purity and love. We promised each other that our love would last forever. Our commitment was about to be tested. We stood there, hand in hand, and let go of our secret.

  We surveyed faces for immediate reactions. I was scared the woods in the back of the house would gain more fertilizer. I quickly formulated an action plan, based on necessity. In the past, I experienced the evil eye from Big Mama for something I considered minor. I braced myself for the verbal tongue-lashing that was primed and ready to spew like lava in our direction. Simultaneously, I stood ready to fling myself between Big Daddy and the pathway to the gun case in the event there was a need for Adam to run to the car. What we got was stone cold silence after the gasp that immediately followed our announcement. I looked at the floor in shame after I observed the pain that filled their eyes. All the lies and deceit that I visited upon my family found their way to the surface. My taste buds revolted when I remembered each unsavory syllable that passed from my throat to my grandparents’ ears.

  I could not have hurt my grandparents more if I ran over them with a car, backed up, and ran over them again. At least the trauma I caused would have been more visible than the internal rupturing of their hearts. They had done all they could to keep me safe and helped me regain my normal life. The sadness in their eyes expressed a level of disappointment I was not prepared for. Tears welled up in Big Daddy's eyes. He quietly detracted from the conversation and made his way outside to the porch swing.

  Big Mama was the remaining risk factor. I was unsure of what to expect from her. She remained quiet for a long time before she asked, “What are y’all planning to do about this situation?”

  Adam and I looked at each other as if the question was unreasonable. I realized we hadn’t talked about what we were going to do. We shrugged our shoulders in unison, signifying to her that we were clueless, inexperienced children.

  "Well, you’d better come up with something soon. Whether you are ready or not, that baby will make its appearance. It doesn't look like to me either one of you counted this cost when you started playing grown-up games with your bodies. How could y’all have been so irresponsible with your future?”

  Big Mama paused for our response. Neither of us uttered a word. I prayed she was finished, but she wasn’t. She reloaded her thoughts and started in on us again. She looked directly at Adam and asked, “Do you have a job?”

  “No”, was his answer.

  Big Mama threw up her hands in exasperation and said, “Babies having babies. You don't have jobs or even a high school education. How do you plan to take care of an innocent child? You can’t even take care of yourselves. Do you even know what it takes to be parents and raise a child?”

  Big Mama looked directly at me and said, “Where are you gonna live? It certainly won’t be here. That’s not what grown people do. If you are grown enough to make a baby, then you should be grown enough to be out on your own.”

  I couldn’t believe what I heard. I knew she didn’t just say I couldn’t live there anymore. We both were shocked into reality by those words. This was my home. I was gonna need help with my baby. The only babies I had ever taken care of were my dolls. They often ended up half-naked with arms and legs missing. That was not a good sign.

  We stood there in silence until Big Mama spoke again. “Adam, I think it’s time for you to leave. I can’t guarantee your safety if my husband comes back inside this house.”

  We decided it would be best if we exited through the back door and walked around the house to Adam’s car. The circuitous route kept ample distance between the two males. I kept a watchful eye on the porch swing where Big Daddy pondered in silence. How ironic that we took part of the same path that just months earlier I nervously watched Adam take with Big Daddy before he was granted the right to date me. Thankfully, my guest departed without incident.

  On my way back to the house, I had to pass by Big Daddy as he sat quietly on the swing smoking his pipe. Our eyes locked for a brief second. I was overwhelmed with shame. I had to look away. I remembered when we sat on that swing shortly after my mother went to jail. He told me to move forward from my past situation and fill my head with knowledge instead of nonsense. Now my stomach was full of life, his heart was full of sadness and our home full of confusion. I was willing to bet he second-guessed his decision not to shoot Adam the day his car pulled up in our driveway.

  Chapter 24

  Acceptance

  What a difference a day made. One day I was the apple of their eye, the next day I felt like the rotten apple. I was the same person they hugged yesterday; today I was untouchable. Each time we were all in the same room, conversations and looks were short and evasive. Our quiet dinners were dominated by the sounds of silverware clanging against glass plates and ice shaken around in glasses. But how had I expected them to act? Their reaction was typical for the enormous new wrinkle in their plans for me.

  Our home life had been turned upside down since our pregnancy announcement. Big Mama eventually started our reconciliation process. She was concerned about my emotional state. After I assured her I was fine, I listened intently as she expressed how they felt. I learned during that conversation that fear, not rejection, fueled their actions. My fragile emotional and biological state was their biggest concern. I understood. I had not stopped long enough to consider anyone but myself. Neither of us was able to hold back the tears. My tears were of relief; hers were of concern for my future. After the initial shock and disappointment moved further into the past, it was clear that her love never wavered.

  “I’m sorry Big Mama” was enough to put us back on track, but it was not that easy with Big Daddy. He continued to exercise the silence campaign. I wondered if things would ever be the same between us. Big Mama advised me to give him some time. I took her advice. I had other things on my mind. I was happy about where my life was heading. I had the love of my life and he was going to give me a family again. The love in my heart and the evidence in my body supported my position. But when I considered the disruption I caused in so many lives, my happiness bordered on being disrespectful.

  Despite differing opinions about my maternal status, acceptance had to be the common denominator. There were too many decisions to be made and no room for unnecessary distractions. We didn’t need futility as an ally at this juncture. With so many smiles to look forward to, I had to convince the prospective father and my family to agree with my joy. Whether he stayed with me or not, I would have and keep this baby. That was the only option I would even entertain.

  I couldn't say the same thing for Adam. I could see in his eyes that being a parent did not bring him the same joy it brought me. On more than one occasion, Adam said he was not ready to be a father and questioned how I let that happen. Those words stung and ruptured my sense of security. I fought the urge to remind him that he was as responsible for the pregnancy as I was, but decided to hold my tongue. Each time Adam lashed out at me, I remained silent. I chalked it up to frustration. There was no time to play the blame game. We had more important things to discuss. I didn’t want to put too much more pressure on his already cluttered mind. I just had to be patient. He’d come around; I just had to wait.

  Chapter 25

  Not Just Yet

 
; No doubt it had been a struggle to get Adam to see things my way, but we were about to hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time. When Big Mama asked about prenatal care, our response was as empty as our pockets. We hadn't thought that far past the positive test results. I was just happy that in the face of these unfamiliar circumstances, the expectant father was right there with me. I hoped that hearing evidence of the life we created would bring him the same joy it brought me. Then, he would not be able to deny that we were a family.

  For a moment I believed I had traveled back in time to the day my mother learned of my pregnancy and I heard the rapid string of nos from a distant room at the clinic. But in this version, the sound of high-pitched screaming was added to the memory. It took a minute for me to realize that it was not a memory. The screams were coming from me. The last conscious thought I remembered were the words "I'm sorry" before my mind retreated from reality. I woke up later in hospital garments. After the parade of medical personnel subsided, I was overwhelmed by the storm of emotions brewing inside.

  All I could do was hold on to Big Mama and pray she would fix this for me. I wanted my baby back. I pleaded with her to make them bring it to me. But that would be an impossible task; there was nothing left. The fetus was disposed of as biological waste before I could even wake up from the extraction procedure. I had to leave the facility with an empty womb and broken dreams. I still hadn’t been granted the privilege of motherhood. What was wrong with me that I couldn’t do something as simple as having a baby? Two men plus two pregnancies equaled zero babies. My maternal math equation had been brutal.