by Trish D.
I thought for sure getting sick on the first day of classes was a one-time thing, but I was wrong. I was sick daily. If I were lucky, it would only last for part of the morning. I learned to manage as best as possible by keeping Gatorade with me to keep from getting dehydrated. It was difficult to keep up in classes since I always had to leave out to go to the bathroom. The other students quickly picked up on my pregnancy and began to pity me. It’s definitely not what I wanted, since I knew there would be a lot of questions. I didn’t want to answer questions because questions would mean I would have to think about Eric. Thinking about Eric was the last thing I wanted to do. One of my classmates, Nicole, went as far as to offer her notes for me to copy at home. She had her daughter in undergrad and was genuinely sympathetic to my situation. Seeing that she had accomplished so much with a child motivated me. If she could do it, I knew I could also. It was tough though. At home in the evenings all I wanted to do was sleep. I didn’t have energy for much else and fell behind on my studying quickly. Jason did his best to motivate me. It bothered me to think that I was disappointing him.
By the time fall break came around, I was ready to throw in the towel. The last day of classes, I slept through my first class and was too sick to sit through my other two classes. I sat in the bathroom crying as I called yelling at my doctor that the meds she gave me were not working. When I realized that I had missed my third class, I was set to go into my advisor’s office to tell him that I needed to take time off. I made the mistake of calling to tell Jason my plan and he of course he was against it. He all but begged me to think about it over fall break and I reluctantly agreed. It made me angry though that he didn’t support my decision. I wanted him to tell me that it was okay to quit and that he was proud of me for trying. What I didn’t want was for him to put expectations on me that I didn’t feel like I could live up to. Before leaving that day, I thought about withdrawing once again behind Jason’s back, but I knew it would lead to problems and I didn’t have it in me to deal with. So I left holding up my end of the bargain but in the back of my mind, I was thinking that after fall break, all bets were off.
The time off for fall break was perfect. Over those four days I didn’t get sick a single time. It was pretty mind blowing to me. Jason was not able to take time off work and I enjoyed the time to myself. It was nice not to have to worry about studying or struggling to get assignments done and while previously, it drove me crazy to sit home all day watching terrible day time television, I enjoyed doing just that. I was able to eat whatever I wanted, had all types of energy, and felt great. For the first time, I also got out and did some shopping for the baby. It was the first time in a long time that I felt excited about the baby. Walking by and viewing all the different options for cribs and swings was overwhelming, but I enjoyed picturing my baby in all of them. As I walked around looking at clothes, I realized how much I wanted a girl to dress up in all the cute clothes and matching hair bows like a baby doll. Since I did not know what I was having I picked up some clothes for Ingrid and decided to wait on picking up any items for my baby knowing that it was a moment that Jason would want to be a part of.
Out of the blue, Shanna called and left a voicemail that she was bringing Ingrid to Charlotte to visit my parents and wanted me to come. I wasn’t thrilled about seeing Shanna or my parents for that matter, but I did want to meet my niece. It also gave me the chance to be able to take the clothes I purchased for her. Jason was not thrilled about me making a long drive alone or about me going period. The time we had spent living together had allowed him to see the issues I had with my family and how they affected me. I insisted that I would be fine and he not wanting to start an argument and add more stress let it go, but not before surprising me with a plane ticket so that I would not have to make the drive alone. I found it to be an incredibly sweet and thoughtful gesture, but at the same time, I also felt like it was a waste of money since I was only going to be home for two days. There were so many things that I felt like we could have spent a couple of hundred dollars on. I didn’t want to seem ungrateful though so I held my tongue and prepared for my trip home.
As soon as I got home to Charlotte, I immediately regretted it. I had to call twice from the airport before Mommy finally answered. Both she and Daddy seemed hesitant about leaving Shanna and the baby who were already at the house. After waiting outside for 30 minutes, I was headed back inside to change my ticket and head back to Tennessee, when I heard a horn blowing and someone yelling my name. When I didn’t think things could get any worse, I turned around to see that the only person who had been willing to come and get me was Craig.
“Hey Stranger! Sorry to keep to you waiting.” If it weren’t for his truck, and him yelling my name, I wouldn’t have recognized him. He had put on even more weight since the last time I had seen him and his beard nearly consumed his whole face. It wasn’t a good look for him.
“Thanks for coming.” I grumbled. It was hard for me to even get that out I was so angry, but I didn’t want to be totally rude to my ride.
We rode in mostly silence with Craig making occasional small talk while driving extremely slowly. He was driving so slow that cars were whizzing by him blowing the horn. I wasn’t in a hurry to be around my family, but his slow driving was getting to me too and finally I had to say something.
“Is there a reason we are going so slow?”
“Oh sorry. I just need a break from this baby stuff you know.” I didn’t know how to respond so I didn’t. My lack of a response was apparently his cue to keep talking. “Everyone’s going crazy over the baby and I’m just like please stop crying and let us sleep at night.”
“Wow!” It was the only response I could come up with. This was his newborn child that he was referring to; like she was a burden more than a blessing. Every time I thought he couldn’t get any lower, he found a way to prove me wrong.
At my parent’s house, Aunt Michelle was there. When I walked in they were all making such a fuss over Ingrid that they didn’t even notice I was there. It was finally Aunt Michelle who saw me making my way to the bathroom and acknowledged me.
“Oh! Cheryl, I didn’t even hear you come in. I’ll let you go to the bathroom preggo lady then I need to rub that belly of yours.”
If I had known that that statement was the only reference I would hear of my pregnancy during my visit, I wouldn’t have let it annoy me so much. My parents hugged me and I noticed that Mommy purposely arched her body back so she didn’t touch my stomach. Neither asked how I was feeling or anything about the baby or school. Shanna was holding Ingrid and acted like she couldn’t get up to hug me. I caught her staring at my stomach several times, but she never said anything about it. I was able to squeeze on the couch next to Daddy and listened to endless “ooohhs” and “ahhhs” over Ingrid. Finally, Shanna asked if I wanted to hold her. I wasn’t expecting to even do that but welcomed the gesture. Shanna stood over me the whole time and literally after ten minutes, she took her back after Ingrid grunted. At that point, I knew I had enough. I made a sandwich for dinner and went into Daddy’s office to use his computer to look for the fastest way back to Tennessee. The airline charged me a fee of $150 to leave the next morning, which was a day earlier, but I didn’t care! I wanted away from everyone.
I went to my room early that evening to see that Mommy was still using it as her new sewing room and my bed was covered in fabric. I went to Shanna’s room to see what it was being used for. It had been kept just the same for her. Out of frustration I knocked everything off the bed and in a childish fit, flung the fabric all over the room. I threw myself on my bed and laughed at how immature I was being, but I refused to pick it up. The next morning, I was up at 6am waiting on my cab to take me to the airport. There was no way I was going to bother anyone to take me or even tell them that I was leaving. When I saw the cab pulling into the driveway, I made my way downstairs. I could hear Ingrid crying and Shanna’s door was cracked. A part of me wanted to go in and kiss my niece goodbye, bu
t I didn’t. I kept on going. I heard Shanna’s door creak and as I turned around to see if she was coming out, I saw her jump back behind the door. It was awkward and hard to tell who was more in the wrong—me for leaving without saying bye or her for hiding behind the door. Either way, I left without either of us acknowledging each other.
Jason had no idea what was going on until I called him from the airport back in Tennessee. When he pulled up, I had been preparing myself for his “I told you so” speech. If that was what he was thinking, he kept it to himself and was nothing but supportive as I explained what had happened. I went to sleep as soon as we got home. I had barely slept the night before and on top of that I was mentally exhausted. When I awoke hours later, I had missed several calls from my parents. There were two voicemails from Daddy begging me to call and let them know that I was okay. A part of me was glad that they were worried and that they remembered that they had two daughters and not just one. The other part of me felt bad about how I had handled the situation. It was my first instinct to ignore the messages and let them figure out why I had left so abruptly. The more I thought about it I changed my mind knowing there was a good chance they wouldn’t see that they did anything wrong and say that I was just acting irrationally. I was not willing to let that happen. Their treatment had gone on long enough. It was time for me to get it all off my chest.
I spent some time trying to gather my thoughts so I didn’t leave anything out. I even tried writing it out first, but it was just so much that I got annoyed and overwhelmed. In an impulsive move, I picked up the phone and dialed my parents’ number without taking the time to calm down. I had no real plan of how to address my feelings with them. Daddy could barely get his “hello” out before I began to lay into him. Everything I had been holding in for months came pouring out in a great heap. The more I talked the more things I thought of and the angrier I became. Daddy had only tried to interrupt me once, but when I would not let him, remained silent during the remainder of my rant. I kept talking until I was exhausted and had to take a breath. After a deep sigh, the tears came and they didn't stop. I sat on the phone sobbing while Daddy responded. I was crying so hard that I couldn’t understand anything he was saying. At some point Mommy got on the phone to apologize for how she had made me feel. It was a start and I accepted both their apologies. I wanted them both to understand though, that I didn't want them to be sorry, I wanted them to do better.
∞∞∞
School started back and though I wasn't getting sick anymore, getting to class was a struggle. I was exhausted daily even though I went to bed early and took the iron pills suggested by the doctor. I started to fall behind pretty quickly despite all the people I had trying their best to keep me motivated. Nicole was there to nudge me in class when I was dozing off and to let me copy the notes I missed. My research advisor would pull me into his office almost daily to give me pep talks and multiple extensions on assignments that I could never get done on time. At home Jason tried to keep me on track to the point that I would have to walk away to keep from ripping his head off. Even my parents tried to help. Since my blow up, they both made it a point to call me at least twice a week to see how the pregnancy and school was going. For the first time in years, I had a team behind me that was rooting for me, which is what I had wanted for so long. I didn't want to disappoint them.
By Thanksgiving break, I was failing miserably at all my classes. By this time, I knew I was having a boy. Daily I was mad at him. I was mad at him for not being the baby girl I wanted to dress up like a baby doll. I was even more upset that Eric would never meet the son he had always talked about wanting. I felt like he was getting me back for being mad at him by taking all my energy. I told myself that I was trying as hard as I could, but deep down I knew that I was using the pregnancy as an excuse. Jason and I had plans to spend the holiday with his family, which was a relief to me. Initially, I thought it was perfect since I wouldn't have to face my parents after my blow up. I also wouldn't have to answer questions about school. From the moment I stepped foot in Jason’s parents’ house, I had 10 minutes before Jason's family hit my last nerve with the constant unwanted belly rubs and endless questions about the baby. For the first time in a long time, I missed my family and chill environment of our holidays.
The time off for Thanksgiving wasn't long, but it did give me a chance to recharge for the rest of the semester. I was ready to finish the semester strong and made it to class daily despite how tired I felt. After classes, instead of going home for my normal afternoon nap, I went to the library and studied. Though I had missed several assignments, I hoped that my professors would see how hard I was trying. I hoped they would have some sympathy for me. I had not missed a single day of classes, I stayed awake, and I made good grades on assignments and tests. In my mind, all I had to do was pass my exams and I would be good for my first year. Just before exam week, I stopped by my research advisor’s office to drop off some work when he asked me to come in and shut the door. It was something that never happened before so I already knew it wasn't going to be good.
"I've been going over your grades for this semester and I have to be quite honest with you. With all the missed work, I don't see you passing this semester."
After a brief silence, I finally found the words to respond. "Well, I know I had some issues at the beginning of the semester due to my pregnancy, but I've been working my butt off here lately."
"I've noticed that and the last part here of the semester, I've seen a marked improvement in your effort and work. However, it does not cover the assignments that were missed."
"Can I make them up? I will make up each and every one that I missed. I really want to pass and move on with my classes." I felt frantic and I hoped it came across in my voice. I really needed him to understand that I wanted to pass.
"Unfortunately, that is against our policy and we have to uphold the policies equally for everyone. I would recommend that you still take your exams and see if you are able to pass some of your classes. The classes you do not pass will have to be retaken."
He continued on, but after some time I tuned him out. I left out of his office feeling deflated. How could he and my other teachers not see how hard I had been trying? Where was the sympathy for the pregnant girl? It was a lot to take in and I had a big decision to make. Just that quick, I lost all motivation for studying or anything school related. I didn't even know if I wanted to bother taking exams. He had made it seem like even if I did well on them, I still wouldn't pass my classes so what was the point? I didn't know how I was going to explain the situation to Jason or my family for that matter. It was embarrassing and I knew they would all be majorly disappointed in me. I knew it wouldn't be the worst thing possible to have to repeat classes, but it was still embarrassing. The time I would have to take off after having the baby would put me repeating the whole year. I had the weekend before exams started to decide. That didn't seem like nearly enough time.
Jason was the only one I told about what was going on. Just as I expected, his advice was to still take the exams to show my professors that I was serious about wanting to pass. I could see his point somewhat, but policy was policy and it had to be upheld for everyone. I had missed too many assignments. I didn't try hard enough and I was beyond upset with myself and even more upset with my baby. He wasn't even in the world yet and already turning my life upside down. I was stressed all weekend, which made it impossible to study. My attempts to do other things to keep busy failed miserably, which left me with nothing but time to sit and obsess. By the time Sunday evening rolled around, I was no closer to a decision than I was on Friday after talking to my advisor. I had barely gotten any studying done and didn’t feel ready to take my exams. I prayed that night for a sign so I could know what to do and for the first time in days fell into a deep sleep. It was the first time in days I had been able to sleep and it took Jason waking me up Monday morning since I slept right through my alarm going off. Jason was on his way to work and once again en
couraged me to get up and give the exams my all. I wanted to get up and do that just for him, but I just couldn't bring myself to get out of bed. Everything in me was screaming that I was making a huge mistake by not going, but I just felt like I had nothing else to give towards school.
Jason never said another word about it, but I could tell by the way he looked at me when he got home and I was still in the same position in bed, that he was disappointed in me. My decision to not take exams bothered me, haunted me, and ate at me for weeks to come. I ignored calls from Nicole and had Jason make up excuses to my parents as to why I couldn't come to the phone when they called. I knew I had to face them eventually, but I felt like I had to deal with my own emotions first before dealing with theirs'. Since we spent Thanksgiving with Jason's family, we had plans to leave in a few days to spend Christmas with my family. Emotionally, I felt the lowest I had felt in a really long time and the thought of being around my family and their questions added stress to me that I did not want or need.
I wanted to spend what time I could to prepare myself for the visit with my family. My anxiety was through the roof since my last visit had gone so badly on top of the new developments with school that I somehow had to explain. I hoped that they would understand due to the pregnancy, but at the same time I felt like I was using the pregnancy as a crutch and excuse. The internal struggle going on in my mind made me physically ill to the point that we had to beg not to be sent to the hospital for monitoring during my doctor visit before leaving. Her reaction to my physical appearance and weight loss was a wakeup call to how I was letting everything get to me. It also shook Jason up, who had not been vocal at all about how he felt about the whole ordeal. I wasn't sure if he was just trying to avoid an argument that would make me more upset or if he was just at a loss of words. After the appointment, that changed and we had a long talk about how the stress was affecting all of us including the baby. As hard as it was to accept, I knew I had to move on from my feelings of disappointment and start making new plans for myself.