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 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.
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.
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