It’s kinda like home, my familiar family is here. I’m 16, pregnant, jobless, not going to school, sick, tired and defiant.
I am staying with my mother for the first time since 13, it’s a little strange to be honest. We don’t really know each other and there are a lot of things between us. My brother is not there, he is either living with my grandparents or has gone to take my place in Virginia. I honestly can not for the life of me remember where he was during this time.We were so close and bonded in our attempted protection of each other but after I moved, we just stopped.
I remember taking my GED and passing. I remember very little about actually being pregnant. I remember being told I had to start eating or I would forever damage my baby. I remember C at one point sending $400.00 to help out with expenses but then wanting a detailed receipt for what I spent the money on and deciding I wasn’t going to have that in my life. We weren’t in love, we weren’t a couple, so what was the point?
He and I wrote each other off and I never saw or heard from him again. I wonder about him sometimes. I wonder if he knows what an amazing son he has. I wonder if he knows that he looks just like him.
I wonder about men who can simply walk away from their lives without ever looking back.
Bruce and I continue to talk regularly and he tells me he has fallen in love with me. He wants to bring me back to Virginia. I tell him we will revisit this later because I am very pregnant, not going anywhere until after the baby is born. I take cabs to my doctor’s appointments.
I go alone.
I have no one to really share this pregnancy experience with. It is not the glorified 16 & pregnant that is on MTV. It’s still quiet shocking in this time. I get looks, stares, whispers. I have lost contact with everyone I used to know.
So I sit at home every day hating that I have lost control over my life again. I hate that I can’t control my body. I look in my mother’s full length mirror every day scrutinizing myself. It is really strange how the mind works. I hated myself but had true love for the baby inside of me. I remember the instant I stop caring what I looked like and let myself go.
I was standing in front of the mirror and I was going through this routine I had in my head, thinking of all the ways I would get back to skinny after the baby was born. I’ll cut out meat, sugar, bread, milk. I’ll eat an apple a day with water. I’ll run 5 miles and do situps every chance I get…and then it happened.
I saw and felt this ball make it’s way across my abdomen. It was like a little fist raised in protest at my thoughts. I looked down and instinctively put my hand on it and felt my son for the first time. I cried for hours that day. Hours. I had no one to share the moment with, no one to hold and explain my feelings too.
It was just me and him. I stopped caring about my body and started caring about the person inside it.