Meant to Be - Part 9

     Okay, finally the 9th part to this story! Sorry it took so long to get it out! Hopefully the next part won't take so long! Any critiquing or corrections welcome! 

     I walk into school. It's the first day of school after Christmas break. I look around, I feel so out of place. These people I've been going to school with, some of them since 1st grade, suddenly feel like strangers. I remember previous years, hardly able to wait for Christmas break to be over so I could get back and see my friends again, but this year, I wished Christmas break would last forever! I readjust my backpack on my shoulder and stride down the hall towards my first class, hoping to blend into the crowd, trying not to make eye contact.
     "Jessica!" a familiar voice calls my name and I'm halted. I turn slowly, Rita's pushing her way through the crowd, her blond hair is pulled straight back into a ponytail, a few stray strands frame her heart-shaped face. She's wearing a navy blue long sleeved tee and loose blue jeans.
     "Hi!" I force a smile.
     "Hey! Good to see you! How are you?"
     "I'm fine, thanks. You?"
     "Great! God is so good!" I search her face, genuine happiness lights up her eyes. I just nod, my heart aching, longing for the days I could say that. Are you really God? Are you good? I suppose, to those perfect people like Rita. I think bitterly.
     "I'm late for class, I gotta go!" I say suddenly fighting tears.
     "Okay, I was gonna ask too, before you go, would you wanna sit at lunch with my girls and me? I mean, I'm not popular or anything, but if you want to we'd love to sit with you." Rita's laugh is musical.
     "Maybe." I nod and hurry to the bathroom where I go into one of the stalls, shutting the door I  lean against the wall and slide into a crouched position sobbing.
     God, where were you when Dad died? And Danny? And when Trent left me God? How can anyone call you 'good' when you let people die? I don't understand it! I whisper. I hear the bell ring and it makes me jump. I exit the stall and look at myself in the mirror, mascara tears are smeared across my face, I grab a tissue and wipe them away, my eyes are still kinda red but I don't have time to reapply my make up. I hurry through the halls to my first class, and slide into my desk just as the tardy bell rings.
     The morning drags by, I almost fall asleep during second period. At lunch, after getting my tray of food, I look around the dining hall until I see Rita, she's with about a dozen other girls that I recognize and know a few by name. A sudden unusual shyness comes over me and I look for an empty table but Rita's waving for my attention and I end up walking over to join them in the end. During lunch, I try to avoid questions and eyes. The girls are all friendly, and they all know my name. Several people stop by our table to say hi to me and ask me how I am.
     "How does everyone know what happened to me? It happened during Christmas break!" I say quietly to Rita after about the fifth person has asked me how I am.
     "News gets around." Rita laughs, "I think everyone's kinda feeling bad for how they treated you when they found out you were pregnant. Kinda responsible you know." she says soberly.
     "They should!" Ali an outspoken red head says adamantly. I'm silent, trying to read sincerity in their words.
     "Jess, we've missed you at bible study, do you think you'll come again?" Karla says, her thick southern accent reminds me she hasn't been here long. I smile at her, my eyes taking in her thick dark hair, it's so perfect, everything about her is perfect, I've always wondered why she wasn't popular, actually a lot of these girls are prettier than the 'in group' of girls, I guess it's just none of them have fought their way to the top, none of them are selfish enough or big-headed enough to fight for popularity, besides, none of the 'Youth group going people' ever are popular. I look from one happy face to the next, to them, Christ is worth far more than popularity, Jenna Harding and three of her girls are in the group. Just last year they were in the 'in crowd', now they're in the 'out crowd' so to speak, because of their Jesus. I find myself envying their peace.
     "Yeah, it's so early, and I never get enough sleep." I excuse myself, ignoring the longing for the peace I and joy I used to have, "I hardly make it to school on time it seems."
     Karla nods,
     "I know what you mean, but if you ever catch up on your sleep, we'd love to have you back!" She smiles. Next to all these girls, I feel so imperfect, so much more of a failure, I don't fit in with them. I excuse myself and thank them for letting me sit with them.
      "Please do again, we enjoyed it!" They all invite. I smile and leave thankful for the excuse that 3rd period is starting soon.
     I make it through the second half of the day and head for home, relieved to finally be able to go home. Jenna stops me on the way to my car.
     "Hey, Jessica, the youth group is going bowling Friday night, do you wanna come? I could give you a ride if you need one."
     "What time?" I try to act interested but all I really wanna do is get out of here.
     "5:30 and we're going to Pizza Hut afterwards, it'd be so awesome to hang out with you again, you always made the group so much more alive!" Jenna smiles.
     "I'll think about it and see how I'm feeling. Thanks for inviting me." I almost run to my car to keep from getting further sidetracked.
     I pull out my calculus homework and try to concentrate, after about half an hour, I go to the kitchen to get myself a tall glass of orange juice and go back to my room. After a few more minutes, I kick of my shoes and get into bed, unable to concentrate any longer, homework will have to wait. But once I'm in bed I'm suddenly wide awake and my mind won't shut down. I think about Jenna and her invite and the invite to the bible study.
     I'm not going! I don't want to be with any of those people, I don't fit in with them! I argue in my mind against the thoughts pressing in, telling me I should go. Finally I roll over onto my side,
     "I'm not going! I don't belong!" I say firmly aloud to myself. Pushing it out of my mind I drift off to sleep.

Memories

     I lay with him, cuddling him against me and trying to remember all the words to the songs mom used to sing to Sarah and me as we fell asleep. I move and he whimpers and reaches for me in the darkness, clinging for comfort and security. I hold him close in my arms and close my eyes, singing all the songs I can think of and then repeating them. Gentle, soothing songs that lulled me to sleep all those years ago.

________________________________________

     "While we do His good will, He abides with us still, And with all who will trust and obey. Trust and obey, for there’s no other way, To be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey." I listen to the lulling squeak of the rocking chair mixing with mom's voice as she rocks him to sleep for his afternoon nap, and nostalgia wraps around my heart as I float back through the years to to the nights mom used to sing Sarah and I to sleep like that.
     I'm four years old, mom's tucked me in and I'm snuggled under my blankets, I lie perfectly still as I listen to her singing to Sarah who is trying to go to sleep in the bunk below mine. I drift between sleep and consciousness, it's dark and everything's so cozy. As I lay there, listening to mom's gentle singing, the thought that someday, life won't be this simple never crosses my mind.
     I pull myself back to 2012, and mull over how far back I can remember.
     The furthest I remember, is 3 or 4 years old, laying in the dark, listening to mom sing to Sarah, or laying in mom's bed when Sarah wakes up in the night, waiting for her to go back to sleep as mom sits in her old orange arm chair, holding her.
     I thought my first memory was from 5, consisting of fear, listening to him yelling at them, angry and upset because they wouldn't come out and work and me, curled up under the table, scared to death, sobbing until I'm shaking. It's the memory I've been holding onto to justify not forgiving the way he's hurt me over the years, and now as I remember memories earlier than this... I no longer can justify myself being bitter for my first memory being fearful, because mom has made a memory for me that will forever be imprinted in my mind,
     "Rock of Ages, cleft for me, Let me hide myself in thee; Let the water and the blood, From they wounded side which flowed, Be of sin the double cure; Save from wrath and make me pure."
     As I move around the kitchen, being as silent as is possible when emptying a dish rack full of clanking dishes, and listening to mom putting him to sleep, I thank Him for showing me this and ask Him to help me forgive the past.
     Life is how you look at it, if you want to be negative about it, everything's terrible. But if you look for the positive, you'll surely find at least one little blessing along the way! And I'm glad He showed me the good in my past today.

Meant to Be - Part 8

     I sleep restlessly and wake a few times in the night, once to use the bathroom. I finally get up as the clock downstairs chimes 9:00. I slide my feet over the edge of the bed and onto the floor, throwing the covers to the end of the bed. I yawn and stretch, thinking about last night. My eyes are sore and I feel like I could sleep forever and yet when I try I can't fall asleep.
     I go to the bathroom and stare at my reflection in the mirror over the sink, my eyes are still red from crying last night and my hair is a sticking in all directions. I comb my fingers through it, I can't believe I cut it off. I've always been proud of my hair, feeling it my one beauty and now it's gone. I sigh and turn away, I undress and get into the shower, hoping it will wake me up a little.
     I stand for a long time under the warm spray, when I finally get out, I wrap a soft white towel around myself and grab one to wrap my hair in then realize I don't have enough hair to do that with anymore so I rub it dry with a hand towel.
     Reaching into the cupboard beneath the sink, I get a washcloth and turn the tap on hot. I wait until it's almost too hot for my skin and wet the cloth then press it against my face, it burns for a moment before cooling down a little. I wash my eyes and brush my teeth and I feel a little better.
     I go back to my room and dig through my draw. I don't feel like wearing jeans so I find a pair of clean, comfy sweats and a hoodie and head down stairs. I can hear mom in the kitchen already. As I enter I breathe in the scent of fresh cinnamon rolls.
     "Good morning Jess! Merry Christmas!" Mom smiles cheerily.
     "Merry Christmas Mom!" I hug her.
     "How are you feeling?"
     "I feel like sleeping forever but when I try to sleep, I can't." I sigh.
     "I'm sorry!" mom says sympathetically, she hands me a mug full of something hot. I take it looking at her questioningly, it smells like berries.
     "Herbal tea." she says. I grimace.
     "It tastes good." mom laughs, "And it's good for you too!" I take a tiny sip and surprise myself by liking it.
     "Okay." I give in. I seat myself at the table and watch mom set the table and put the pan of hot cinnamon rolls on the table.
     "Those smell amazing!" I exclaim sniffing the tantalizing aroma. Mom hands me a spatula and I scoop one onto my plate, caramel drips from the bottom and I scrape the bottom of the pan, making sure not to leave any. I put the spatula back into the pan leaning towards mom as she sits down across from me. Mom asks the blessing and I reach for the butter with my knife. We eat in silence mostly, aside from a few comments about the new blanket of snow that fell during the night.
     "Thanks for breakfast mom, I'm going to go rest for a little bit. And I still have gifts to wrap." I rinse my plate and cup and put them in the dishwasher.
     "Alright." Mom agrees.
     I go to my room and shut the door and lock it. I unplug my laptop and take it from my desk seating myself cross-legged on my bed. While I wait for it to load, I reach over and turn my radio on. It's tuned to the Christian radio station and I hum along with the song.  I click on the google icon and search for a pregnancy calculator. For the last few weeks, I've been too scared and too wrapped up in other things to research pregnancy but I realize I know almost nothing.
     I type in the first day of my last period and a few other things and click the calculate button. My estimated due date, June 16. I smile slightly just a week after my 18th birthday. What about college? The thought comes to me, and school? Tears sting my eyes.
     God? Why'd you let this happen? Why'd you let me get pregnant? Why? It'll ruin my whole life!! I remember my conversation with mom the night before, "I think I want to keep the baby." and suddenly I'm not so sure. I could drop out of school and finish my education at home, graduate in the spring and then the baby would come and someone could adopt it and I could go to college in the fall. A new start in a new place and no one would know about my past.
     God, I don't understand why you allow me this kind of pain! And why can Trent just get off like that? It's his baby just as much as mine! And he can just go and leave, but I'm here, stuck for at least nine months with this baby I didn't want and don't have time or money to take care of! It's not fair God! It's just not! 
     "I'll praise You in this storm, I will lift my hands, For You are who You are, No matter where I am, And every tear I've cried, You hold in Your hand, You never left my side, And though my heart is torn..."
     The lyrics to my used to be favorite song by Casting Crowns run through my mind in sync to the radio.
     Oh God! I half sob, I can't do it! I turn the radio off.
    Be strong and of good courage, do not fear nor be afraid...for the LORD your God, He is the One who goes with you. He will not leave you nor forsake you. Deuteronomy 31:6
     Lord, I just can't do it! Please take it away! 
     I search some more for other information about pregnancy and what to expect, all the sights are talking about going through it 'together' and every time I read 'dad' or 'your partner' my heart aches.
     "Why did Trent have to turn out this way God?" I whisper. Closing my eyes for a moment, I imagine Trent is with me and he promises to take care of me and baby. But then the memory of reality flashes through my mind and I blink my eyes open quickly, pushing away the memories. 
     I'm about 15 weeks along, just barely into the second trimester, my morning sickness is mostly gone, I've noticed stretch marks beginning to appear across my stomach and none of my clothes are fitting like they used to. I'll have to go clothes shopping and start using lotion, I've heard it helps stretch marks.
     I pull a notebook from my nightstand and find a working pen from the pencil holder and begin a list,
  
Drink Water - 40-80 ounces daily
Shop for new clothes 
Buy Cocoa Butter Lotion
Talk to Mom about seeing a doctor or something
Talk to Mom about options 

     I sigh and throw the notebook aside and shut my laptop, putting it back on the desk I go into the bathroom and pull my shirt up again, straight on I can still just barely tell any difference but when I turn sideways, I notice a slight bulge. I half smile. Time to go shopping! After Christmas there should be some sales anyways.
     I go back to my room and wrap Mom's presents and bring them down with me to put under the tree. We'll open them tonight after dark, it's tradition in our family. I smile as I set it with the other presents, with both Danny and Dad gone, the presents under the tree are sparse. I brush a tear from my cheek and turn away from the tree. 

     "Mom." I say coming into the kitchen.

     "Yes?" 

     "I need to talk to you. About the baby and all." Mom smiles and nods. 

     "Alright." I take a breath, I don't know why talking about this is so difficult, it just feels awkward and I'm scared to think about the baby, my baby... and my future, the baby's future... our future.