Chapter Six
7 years ago
“I NEED IT NOW!” I screamed out.
The pain was unbearable. How women did this naturally was beyond me because no one should have to go through this kind of pain. There was a reason for modern medicine.
“A doctor, nurse, or some kind of fucking medical professional needs to get in here and give my little girl some drugs,” my Momma yelled out into the hallway of the third floor labor and delivery wing at our county hospital.
I was about to give birth to the baby I had been carrying around the past nine months.
I had gone into a deep depression following the night of Tanya’s party. I stopped speaking with my friends and ignored my family. The four pink walls in my bedroom helped keep me safe and locked away from the rest of the world.
It took two months for me to realize that my period never came.
I hadn’t reported what had happened with Kyle that night. I just wanted to forget it, but when the pregnancy test I bought at the corner store showed a plus sign, I was forced back into the real world.
I just turned sixteen, I was going to have a baby, and my rapist, Kyle, was the father.
Chelsea was the first person I told. She listened to me while I gave her every grueling detail. Once her initial shock wore off and she was able to process what I told her, the blame came. Only… she blamed herself.
I wish I could say we were able to move past it, but we weren’t. I didn’t blame Chelsea for what happened and I tried to tell her that over and over. Sometimes words just aren’t enough.
Chelsea blamed herself for not bringing me home like she promised and every time she looked at me she was reminded of that. She slowly started distancing herself from me until eventually she cut all contact.
I was six months pregnant when I lost my best friend.
Chelsea was with me when I told my momma I was pregnant. Thank God, for that. My momma didn’t take it well. She called me every name in the book. When I told her what Kyle had done to me she threw me out of the house. She thought Kyle Monroe was a respectable, young man and I needed to stop spreading lies about him.
I stayed with Chelsea for a few weeks until my momma let me come back home. The only condition was that I needed to stop talking about the rape nonsense. I needed a place to stay so I let it go, for my mom.
My momma had come around these past few months. We went to the library and read up on what I should expect as a new mom, we went to the local Goodwill and bought some maternity clothing, and we even went shopping for a crib. It wasn’t an ideal situation, but she was being supportive and that’s exactly what I needed.
I left school as soon as the rumors started. I hid my growing belly for as long as I could, but I knew eventually everyone would know. The father stayed a secret, but the people of this town came up with some ridiculous possibilities. One rumor stated that our married science teacher was the father.
That one was disturbing.
I started attending night school for pregnant teens and teens with children. The people were nice and there was a therapist on staff who was helping me deal with what had happened. She even encouraged me to press charges. When I finally did, it was too late. Kyle denied everything and there wasn’t enough physical evidence.
The bastard claimed it was consensual.
Now I’m at the hospital and four centimeters dilated. The contractions are already kicking my ass. Lucky for me, the anesthesiologist just came in to give me the epidural. My momma sat back down with her knitting needles and started praying to Jesus that the epidural would work. She didn’t like to see her baby girl in pain.
I had to stay still while the anesthesiologist put the rather large needle in my back. He warned me about the pain, but I didn’t even notice it because my abdomen hurt so badly. Thankfully, I started to feel the result of the epidural right away.
Within fifteen minutes I no longer felt any contractions. The nurse told me I should take advantage of this time and rest before I had to do the hard part, deliver my baby.
I was in and out of consciousness for the next few hours. I was trying to get as much rest as possible before I had to deliver my baby. I started feeling pressure below, which is what woke me up. My momma came right over to the side of my bed and placed her hands on my belly.
I had the urge to push. It was weird because I was still feeling no pain, but I had this intense feeling to push. I read enough in my preparation for delivery to know that this could be a sign that I was ready to deliver, so I had my momma get the nurse right away.
After an internal exam it was official. I was ten centimeters dilated and ready to have my baby. I was scared. I had been so strong during my pregnancy, but in this moment I was terrified. I didn’t want to deliver my baby. I wanted my baby to stay inside me forever.
I was losing my hold on reality. The hell I had lived in these past nine months has finally caught up to me. What was I thinking having this baby? It was going to be a constant reminder of what had happened to me. How could I even love it?
I couldn’t really tell you what happened next. It was like an out of body experience. I was physically there, but I had mentally checked out. It was like watching a movie being played out right in front of me. It wasn’t happening to me, it felt like it wasn’t me at all.
A doctor came in. More nurses. My mother was standing next to me talking, but I didn’t hear her. My legs were placed in stir-ups. Medical instruments were placed to the left of my feet, while the doctor sat in a chair between my open legs. I couldn’t hear anything to know if I was given instructions, but I didn’t need to. My body knew to push. It was instinct.
I was pushing.
I was watching my mother. She was looking at me; still speaking what I hoped were words of encouragement. The doctor was looking at me, then between my legs, then at me, then between my legs. His mouth was also moving, but I couldn’t make out what he said.
I continued to push.
It was draining all the energy out of me. I was so exhausted and I knew this next push was the last one my body could take. Luckily, it was the last push I needed. My baby’s head was out and then its body. The doctor placed a towel around my baby’s body and placed my baby on my chest.
“Congratulations, it’s a boy,” my doctor said.
That was all I had to hear to bring me back to reality, back in that moment.
I have a boy. He was beautiful. He was still covered in goo from my placenta, but he was the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. His perfection was only proven by the fact that he snapped me out of my mental breakdown.
I could do this and I knew this now. He was the only thing that mattered. I was going to be a fantastic mother and do right by him.
“He is one handsome devil,” my momma said. “Have you thought of a name for him?”
Name? What would I name him? I hadn’t thought about it yet.
I had been down such a rough road the past few months and the miles between had taken its toll on me. I never thought about what I would name my little girl or boy.
It had to be a strong name, something that he could live up to. He was going to have to face a lot of truths in the future, some I wasn’t sure I wanted him to know. The road ahead of him was going to be rough and I wanted him to make it out the other side a strong man. I wanted the miles in between to be paved, smooth and beautiful for my perfect little boy.
He was a survivor.
It was then that I knew what my little boy would be called the rest of his life. It was the perfect name for him. It wasn’t your average name like Mike or Tim. It had just the touch of originality and it had a story behind it. When he was old enough I might even tell him that story. How he saved his mother and showed her that there could be beauty in even the worst of situations. That he was my silver lining.
“Miles… his name is Miles.”
The Road To Price Page 11