15 years... 15 years... 15 years... It didnt really hit me untill now, on eve of his birthday, that 15 is kind of a big number to be dealing with when your only 32. Oh, I've played the wierd numbers game plenty of times before... Imagine having an 18 year old when your 35, a 30 yr old when your 47.... And then you can play the slots together when you are 70 and 87.
15 years ago on this night I was ready. I had made the tough decisions, gotten rid of the people who were in my way, had gotten over a painful teenage heart-ache that would put that stupid MTV show to shame, and had left my old life in the past. I had put all this in a bottle, threw it out to sea and sat on the beach in a quiet calm watching it float away untill I couldn't see it anymore. Then I left with a determined smirk on my face and a new future growing in my belly. So, on the night of July 2nd, 1997, I went to bed ready.
He was already a week late and I spent the day eating funnel cake at the PA Dutch festival in a nearby town. At this point I was over getting stared at for being a freshed faced teenager with a huge belly and had braved the festival. Speaking of which, embarassment is a tough thing, and in this situation it probablly shaped me for life. Thanks world of rude people, I will forever be a little weird.
The highschool situation had been tough, and I was more than thankful for the summer. My mom had gotten me a counselor to help me deal with the situation of a teenage pregnancy. I remember that I loved going and talking to the woman... she helped me find a lot of inner strength. She told me to just own the situation as it was inevitable the gossipers would be proven right soon (at 5 and 6 months it was still questionable). So, one day in the hall a boy that I had always found irritating approached me and asked point-blank, "Are you pregnant?" "Yes." I answered him, and glowered as he ran away excited with his news-breaking information. The next day I showed up at school in a shirt that said "under construction" across my chest and an arrow pointing to my stomach. "Just own it and keep your head high.", I told myself.
At this point things were getting better and tougher. I found it was actually a big breather to be out in the open but then "friends" starting dropping like flies. There is not a better "friend killer" than having something socially unnacceptable happen to you... or if your on the swim team and you make the district and state relay times slow, the Coach and his party of 3 hench-girls will be up your ass trying to get you to take pregnancy tests with feigned "concern". Then, if you're me, you get pissed and sue the coach. Good-bye swimming friends, thanks for your "concern" fuckers...
I don't know how common teenage pregnancy was in 1997, but another wierd thing that happened that I can't imagine happening now is that random couples would call or send letters looking to adopt my baby. This was really weird and kind of made me protective of my pregnancy. But now, when I look back, the desperation of these people is palpatable. Good, able parents reaching out to find that baby they so desperately want. And to be perfectly honest... my baby was white and most adoptive parents are white... it was a situation these people couldn't help but try for. When I hear of unwanted pregnancies and what people do with them, I think of these desperate couples and my heart aches.
I woke up early in the morning on July 3rd, 1997 with my first contraction. I didn't know what it was... I waited untill I felt another. Then I timed it untill I felt another one.... then I timed again... the time was the same. I woke up mom (my dad was traveling). And we we checked into the hospital around 5 am. My mom and my older brother kept my company untill it got too bad... walking around with me and feeding snow-cones to me. When I got my epidural and was sitting in bed, my mom and brother ate hot-dogs and chit-chatted... it was all very relaxed. The docter asked if I minded if students helped with my delivery for training and educational purposes. I didn't mind, and I actually loved having them there. While the docter was getting down to buisness and I was pushing out the baby... they would say things like, "Oh! I can see his head! He has brown hair!" And it would make me smile. When when I delivered him, they were the first to ask me his name with tears in their eyes to match my own... "James", I said.
15 year.... 15 years.... 15 years.... 15 years has passed and it's now the morning of his birth. In 15 years, I graduated highschool and college, I continued to have a successfull college swimming career, I got married, and have bought my second house... I have 2 more boys, a dog and a cat. I have had good jobs and am now a stay-at-home-mom writing this blog and driving a mini-van. Most importantly, I have raised a good kid, who's on the brink of adulthood, which he will enter with a good head on his shoulders and a personality to die for.
July 3rd is a celebration of two lives that had everything against them, but had the whole world ahead of them. Happy Birthday James, and thank you... without you, I don't know where I'd be right now.
15 years ago on this night I was ready. I had made the tough decisions, gotten rid of the people who were in my way, had gotten over a painful teenage heart-ache that would put that stupid MTV show to shame, and had left my old life in the past. I had put all this in a bottle, threw it out to sea and sat on the beach in a quiet calm watching it float away untill I couldn't see it anymore. Then I left with a determined smirk on my face and a new future growing in my belly. So, on the night of July 2nd, 1997, I went to bed ready.
He was already a week late and I spent the day eating funnel cake at the PA Dutch festival in a nearby town. At this point I was over getting stared at for being a freshed faced teenager with a huge belly and had braved the festival. Speaking of which, embarassment is a tough thing, and in this situation it probablly shaped me for life. Thanks world of rude people, I will forever be a little weird.
The highschool situation had been tough, and I was more than thankful for the summer. My mom had gotten me a counselor to help me deal with the situation of a teenage pregnancy. I remember that I loved going and talking to the woman... she helped me find a lot of inner strength. She told me to just own the situation as it was inevitable the gossipers would be proven right soon (at 5 and 6 months it was still questionable). So, one day in the hall a boy that I had always found irritating approached me and asked point-blank, "Are you pregnant?" "Yes." I answered him, and glowered as he ran away excited with his news-breaking information. The next day I showed up at school in a shirt that said "under construction" across my chest and an arrow pointing to my stomach. "Just own it and keep your head high.", I told myself.
At this point things were getting better and tougher. I found it was actually a big breather to be out in the open but then "friends" starting dropping like flies. There is not a better "friend killer" than having something socially unnacceptable happen to you... or if your on the swim team and you make the district and state relay times slow, the Coach and his party of 3 hench-girls will be up your ass trying to get you to take pregnancy tests with feigned "concern". Then, if you're me, you get pissed and sue the coach. Good-bye swimming friends, thanks for your "concern" fuckers...
I don't know how common teenage pregnancy was in 1997, but another wierd thing that happened that I can't imagine happening now is that random couples would call or send letters looking to adopt my baby. This was really weird and kind of made me protective of my pregnancy. But now, when I look back, the desperation of these people is palpatable. Good, able parents reaching out to find that baby they so desperately want. And to be perfectly honest... my baby was white and most adoptive parents are white... it was a situation these people couldn't help but try for. When I hear of unwanted pregnancies and what people do with them, I think of these desperate couples and my heart aches.
I woke up early in the morning on July 3rd, 1997 with my first contraction. I didn't know what it was... I waited untill I felt another. Then I timed it untill I felt another one.... then I timed again... the time was the same. I woke up mom (my dad was traveling). And we we checked into the hospital around 5 am. My mom and my older brother kept my company untill it got too bad... walking around with me and feeding snow-cones to me. When I got my epidural and was sitting in bed, my mom and brother ate hot-dogs and chit-chatted... it was all very relaxed. The docter asked if I minded if students helped with my delivery for training and educational purposes. I didn't mind, and I actually loved having them there. While the docter was getting down to buisness and I was pushing out the baby... they would say things like, "Oh! I can see his head! He has brown hair!" And it would make me smile. When when I delivered him, they were the first to ask me his name with tears in their eyes to match my own... "James", I said.
15 year.... 15 years.... 15 years.... 15 years has passed and it's now the morning of his birth. In 15 years, I graduated highschool and college, I continued to have a successfull college swimming career, I got married, and have bought my second house... I have 2 more boys, a dog and a cat. I have had good jobs and am now a stay-at-home-mom writing this blog and driving a mini-van. Most importantly, I have raised a good kid, who's on the brink of adulthood, which he will enter with a good head on his shoulders and a personality to die for.
July 3rd is a celebration of two lives that had everything against them, but had the whole world ahead of them. Happy Birthday James, and thank you... without you, I don't know where I'd be right now.
Love this post, Leah! Happy birthday to James!!
ReplyDeleteThanks Kristy! He had a good one :-)
DeleteLeah, I'm a little behind the times in reading this. Regardless, I cried as I was reading. I had no idea you were pregnant in high school, I'm sorry it could be so hard and I'm glad you grew from it. It feels so important that you are sharing your experience, strength and hope about it. Your love for yourself and James shows. it's inspiring!
ReplyDelete