by E. McNew
To change things up and relieve boredom, Josh and I invited a crowd of friends over to Lilah’s house on the following weekend when we were babysitting, and we had them bring some beer. Summer was put to bed and the party started. Josh and I were drunk and acting foolish along with everyone else. As I was running up the hallway staircase to relieve my full-of-beer bladder, I suddenly gasped from the terrible pain of menstrual cramps. Ugh. I am definitely not pregnant! Again.
Josh went to work early the next morning. I was nauseous and hung over, but I managed to make it to my last class at school after my older sister gave me a guilt-trip and convinced me to go. Fifteen minutes in, I decided that I was too sick to focus. I walked home and crawled into my fluffy, comfortable bed.
Lying there I thought about when my last period had been. I pulled the chart from underneath my bed. In shock, I realized that I was already four days late! I jumped out of bed and hurried into the bathroom.
I pulled out a pregnancy test that I had been reserving. It was blue and white, and holding it gave me an adrenaline rush. I read the directions for the tenth time and tried to avoid peeing on my hand. When I sealed off the test, I turned my head away hoping that when I locked the cap in place it wouldn’t spray me in the face. I took the test back into my bedroom. Sitting on the floor in front of the mirror, I put my make-up on and fixed my hair into a ballerina-style bun. I always tried to look my best for when Josh got off of work. I waited about ten minutes before I nervously looked back at the test.
What if it’s actually positive? No, don’t get your hopes up. But what if it’s positive? This could be a big deal – so much more than I thought. Oh no. I don’t know if I’m ready for this. Nervous thoughts ran through my head as my adrenaline picked up more and more. Finally, I knew that no amount of nervous self-chatter would change the result - whatever it may be. Reaching for the test with my right hand, I avoided looking at the result until I had a firm grasp on it and it was in crystal-clear sight. Holding my breath, a second blue line stared back at me, telling me I was pregnant. This blue line signified more than I was able to comprehend. It was going to be a long, uncertain road ahead.
Shaking and gasping on the floor of my bedroom, I was afraid and confused. I had so many fantasies about life as an adult and doing whatever I wanted any time of the day. But they were just that - fantasies. This was real. There was officially a life growing inside of me. There was no turning back. The reality of the situation suddenly brought upon me a dark cloud of guilt and fear. I began to wonder how my family was going to react. I had a feeling that I wasn’t going to be as in control of my life as I wanted. Staring at myself in the mirror, I quickly understood that this was permanent and I could not go back. This was the moment that changed the direction of my heart, mind, soul, and spirit. I was now following a new path that was going to be far more advanced than I ever could have known.
Chapter 3
Once I calmed down from the shock of the positive pregnancy test, I casually asked my mother to drop me off at Josh’s work so I could walk home with him when he got off. She said that would be fine. She was extra nice to me on the ride there. Watching the road and not knowing that her fifteen-year-old daughter was holding in her pocket a test confirming the existence of her second grandchild, my mother chatted about mundane, everyday things. I started to feel sad and guilty. I knew that she was going to be hurt and let down when I told her. There was nothing worse than seeing my mom upset. I hated to see her cry. It rarely happened, but when it did, it broke my heart. I would soon have to face telling my mother that I was going to be a mother.
Josh was busy working when we pulled up. Covered in black shiny oil as usual, he looked over and smiled when he saw me. He asked his boss for a five-minute break to walk over to the gas station with me for some cigarettes. My face must have been saying that I was upset, and he asked me what was wrong. I cautiously pulled out the positive pregnancy test and held it up for him to see. His expression wasn’t happy, but he wasn’t upset either. He shrugged as if he almost expected it. It didn’t seem like he was too afraid or worried either; I think he may have been in shock. I waited at the picnic bench that the guys at the shop used for lunch breaks until it was time for Josh to clock out.
Derrick, one of his co-workers, was making me wish I had waited to tell Josh the news. Derrick was in his mid-twenties and always hitting on me. I could never tell if he was joking or serious, and it made me uneasy. I had a brief flashback to a few months earlier when Josh convinced my mother to let me go fishing with him and Derrick and Derrick’s brother, Donnie. My mom asked Josh for all of the details and the exact location. Since Josh did not have a car, Donnie picked us up on the sunny Friday afternoon. Derrick would follow later in his own car. Donnie had a small one-seat pickup truck that we all had to squeeze into. It was a bit awkward sitting between Josh and an older man whom I barely knew. Donnie had long hair down to his jaw and looked like a mix between a hippie and a hobo. He seemed like the stoner type but was always nice and personable. The thing about Derrick and Donnie, was that they both knew how to make astounding first impressions. They were very engaged in conversations and always made sure to add in some sort of humor. Donnie was about 10 years older than Derrick although Derrick looked older than Donnie. They were an interesting pair.
After making it to the fishing spot and getting the gear out of the truck and set up, Josh and Donnie opened the cooler right away and started drinking beer. Derrick arrived shortly after and was diligently focused on his fishing instead. He brought his obnoxious friend, Jimmy, along. Jimmy had already been drinking when they arrived. I wanted a beer too but didn’t want to ask Donnie because I didn’t know him well enough. Josh saw the longing look of thirst on my face and handed me a beer, knowing Donnie wouldn’t mind. I was still fourteen at this point. I was excited that these older men were so accepting of my age and didn’t mind me drinking with them. It made me feel like I was a part of the “grown-up” club.
While the four men were drunk and I was more than buzzed, we started to pack up because it was getting dark. Donnie said that if he had any more to drink he would not be able to drive. Goofing off and having silly, drunk conversations while packing up, we were all gathered around Donnie’s truck before parting ways. Jimmy was openly hitting on me in front of Josh. I never took it seriously knowing that he was in his mid-twenties. He couldn’t possibly be serious, I was thinking. The topic of boobs was somehow brought up, and Josh began bragging about how perfect mine were. “She probably doesn’t even have tits, she’s only fourteen,” Donnie proclaimed. Offended that a person was challenging my womanhood I replied, “Oh please; you’d be surprised.” Not knowing that I had placed myself into a vulnerable situation, Jimmy excitedly challenged me. “Yeah, right. If they’re so awesome then prove it!”
Standing in the dark, surrounded by four men who were all much older than me, I looked up at Josh to defend me. “Show ‘em,” he confidently said with a drunk, pathetic slur. They rambled consistently about me exposing myself for what felt like hours, and they were not about to let up.
I purposely postponed the challenge as long as I could because it was getting dark and the darker it got, the less they would be able to see. My liquid courage was not serving me so well this time. It was finally almost completely dark, and my buzz was wearing off and making me tired. I just wanted to go home. After the hundredth time, I finally lifted my shirt as if I were a confident showgirl from Vegas performing a routine. “Yep...those are brand new,” Donnie casually said as he was exhaling his cigarette smoke. “Damn! Junior has it made!” Jimmy practically yelled. (Junior was the nickname given to Josh by his coworkers because he was the runt of the group.) Derrick looked annoyed and almost mad. “Macy is making lasagna tonight, and I’m outta here,” he said as he got into his car and drove off. With the flash show over, I was pleased to be accepted into this “grown-up” crowd, but my stomach ached and I knew that God was very sad with my decision. My youth and innocence w
ere further tainted by this choice. I later blocked it out of my mind and pretended that it was just a bad dream.
Millions more thoughts raced through my mind while I sat on the wooden bench at the tire shop. There were even more conflicting emotions. I did not know if I should be happy or if I should be devastated. However, the more I thought about my child the more I grew attached with each passing minute. I knew who this person was, and I knew that this person was necessary to the world. This person was going to be beautiful, perfect and needed. I was not the only one that would need this person. My child’s purpose was much more powerful than that.
As a mostly mature adult, I have learned that what is meant to exist will exist. It will find a way to embrace this world if God decides that it needs to be here. Through this process, I felt God was with me. I heard God’s whisper of encouragement to move forward and to not allow any force to stand in my way. I felt safe and cared for even when I was at my loneliest moments.
When the next morning arrived, I knew deep down that I was going to keep this baby. No person or force would have the power to change my mind. I had a vision of what my baby was going to look like. She would be beautiful, tall, and skinny, with stunning blue eyes and a big, bright smile. And, of course, she would have long, dark hair. Yes, that would be her. I knew who she was long before I met her. I knew who she was from the beginning of her existence. I held off telling my mother the news for as long as possible. I just didn’t want to face it. I was worried she would be mad.
I was exhausted by the time the last school bell rang within a few days after finding out I was pregnant. I was enrolled in Driver’s Education class after school for the next few months and having to sit and watch documentaries on the consequences of drunk driving was no picnic. That was when the seriousness of my age was brought to light. I began to feel uneasy thinking about the fact that I was pregnant, and I wasn’t even old enough to get a driver’s license! I was no longer feeling confident about anything or secure with what I thought I wanted. That day I drove myself home with Mr. Morris in the passenger seat. He stomped on his brake pedal every time I went too fast or didn’t look over my shoulder. I was already feeling sick, and the bumpy ride was not helping. I walked into the house and slouched on the couch. I was happy the day was finally over.
Idly watching a talk show discussing cheating husbands and their lies, I barely glanced up when my mom came through the front door. She quickly looked at me and spoke. I was surprised by what came out of her mouth: “Are you pregnant?” Well, shit. That was a pretty straight forward question, I thought. I used my usual topic-avoidance-technique: I rolled my eyes. “No. What the hell? Where did you hear that?” I said, trying to sound offended. She then explained to me how she had received a phone call early in the day from one of my teachers who had overheard other kids talking about it. I was confused as to where that came from. I hadn’t told anyone except Josh!
My mom sighed with relief and walked back to her bedroom to do her usual nighttime ritual of watching the news in her pajamas and eating ice cream. I knew I could no longer hide the truth from her. I had to face what was happening.
The next morning I woke up feeling sick and nauseated. I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t going to school…my life was over anyway. I would spend the day at home trying to figure out how to tell my mom the truth. Josh came by the house on his lunch break to see how I was feeling. We mutually decided to spill the beans to my mom. Both of us were much too afraid to tell her in person. We decided to write her a letter. Later, after spending an hour carefully finding the right words to scribble down, Josh was brave and took the letter down to my mother’s bedroom. He came back up to me, and we waited in fear for her reaction. My room was directly above hers, so we could hear most of what was happening below.
“Gosh, damn it!” She was so mad that she didn’t come up to talk to us for what felt like a lifetime!
Finally, she came up to notify us that we better figure out what the hell we were going to do and how we were going to take care of this. I had no idea what she meant by “take care of this.” Neither did Josh.
The next morning I decided not to go to school again. I slept until about 10:00, and when I woke up, I still didn’t get out of bed for a while. I started to think about my options and how sad it would be to choose abortion. I knew that nothing could ever make me do such a horrible thing, but the thought of it still made me cry. I heard my mom coming up the stairs and I buried my face in my blanket. She walked in and sat on my bed. The second she started to lovingly twirl my bed-head frizzy hair the floodgates opened. It was as if the Hoover Dam had collapsed. Something about sympathy from a parent makes it much more difficult NOT to cry. She explained to me that I still had to go to school. She asked me what I wanted to do about the pregnancy. I told her that I would rather choose adoption over abortion. I told her that I did not want to feel guilty for the rest of my life for killing an innocent being.
“Well, if you and Josh are that serious, maybe we can look into you two getting married.” That statement brought me peace and comfort. I just needed her support in this. I knew that without her help I would be lost.
The events of the next few days changed the feeling of the situation. I finished up my Driver’s Ed but refused to attend my other classes. I did not want to deal with people talking about me every time I walked into a room. My mom scheduled an appointment with my school counselor to discuss my options. The counselors told me that I could keep attending my regular classes, get started on independent study and do work from home, or attend the Young Parents Program.
I wanted to stay at home. I had this idea that it would be safe to hide away from the world. What I did not know was that the world, and the people in it, could not be avoided.
Later that day a detective from the police department came to my door looking for Josh. One of my high school counselors had called the police.
Chapter 4
A loud knock on the door startled me as I lay on the couch. I had just gotten home, tossed my backpack on the floor, and fell on the couch. I was tired and definitely not in the mood to deal with those annoying churchgoers wanting to invite themselves in to talk about ways of avoiding going to hell. According to a Mormon family I was acquainted with, I was already there. About two months pregnant, I felt bloated and just wanted to unbutton my jeans permanently. I walked through the atrium to the front door to see a tall, dark silhouette standing behind the blurry glass. I had no idea what this person wanted or who it was. I slowly and cautiously opened the creaky door to be greeted by a man wearing a badge that read Police Department. Great. What did Josh do to get himself into trouble last night? I thought to myself. Josh had been out drinking with a few friends the night before to “celebrate” our future baby.
The police officer looked to be in his late 30’s with dark hair and a kind smile. He announced that he was there to speak with a Ms. Anna. “That’s my mother and she’s in school right now,” I replied. He asked me for my name. Upon introducing myself, he took a small notepad out and located his pen to scribble down notes. I was confused and starting to become worried. A rush of fear made me weak when I heard the words “How old is your boyfriend, Miss Jeter?” I stuttered as I attempted to think of a way out of telling the truth.
I am a horrible liar when I’m nervous. For that reason, I just spit it out. “He is 19 sir,” I said. I realized that the only way to fix this potentially terrible situation was to become extra sweet and appear to be mature. I wanted the police officer to see me as a 19 year old; I did not want this man to see the situation for what it really was and have Josh arrested. Josh was only 4-1/2 years older than me. I really did not think that it was that bad. People would just have to understand. After all he is stepping up to the plate and supporting me, right? Why would anyone believe it to be necessary to take away the father of an innocent child and maybe soon to be husband?
The officer replied with a series of questions: “So, how did you meet Josh? Is h
e supporting you through everything? How does your mother feel about this? Did you ever feel pressured into sleeping with Josh, Miss Jeter?” I answered every question simply and in a way that I thought would only be beneficial enough to keep Josh out of jail.
The officer was very nice about the entire matter, and as he retreated down the driveway, he announced that as long as my mother did not wish to pursue criminal charges, the case would be dropped. Later in the day, I overheard my mom on the phone with the officer.
She was speaking as if she was upset and confused, but she did not mention anything about agreeing to have Josh thrown in jail. I did not expect that she would; she loved Josh like a son, and she knew that his intentions had always been right. I was happy that the dilemma was over. I did not even fathom the fact that this particular dilemma was only the first out of hundreds to follow.
I discovered that I was pregnant in the beginning of September 2002. It took about two weeks to get the guts to tell my mother, and then it took another two weeks to officially tell her my decision to have the child. I played it off as if it was just another simple issue and life was to carry on as usual. I did not want to talk about the subject because I already knew what my decision would be. I knew my decision would stir up some anger in my friends and family members. My innocence was entirely gone to them. What was done was done. There was no way in hell that I was going to agree to have an abortion. Most every person I knew was attempting to convince me that if I kept this baby my life would be over. These people had no clue that I wanted this baby; they had no clue that I became pregnant on purpose. I was being harassed about having an abortion almost every day. I was almost to a point of frustration that I just wanted to agree to shut everyone up.