I'm Pregnant

*blink, blink*

I can’t believe this. So many questions…when did it happen? How is all this gonna work out? What is everyone gonna think…KNOWING about the celibacy thing we all are supposedly doing? What are the parents gonna say? What about everything? After finding out this shocking news I just stood there. I didn’t really know how to react. I mean I’m happy…but scared…worried…anxious…*sigh* man…I’m just confused.

I looked at her, took a deep breath and gave her a supportive hug. I know for my best friend, finding out she’s pregnant is devastating. Not for the obvious reasons of her not being ready to be a mother right now…or her not being married…but well…she’s starting seminary school in a week, and being unmarried and pregnant is NOT a good way to start off on the right foot. Plus she’s a minister and a mentor to the young teenage girls. What will they say when they find out? It has to be hard. The pressure to do right…and knowing that her slip up is going to be made public in less than 9 months is hard. Being so active in the church and having the same young people you told practice abstinence watch your belly grow can’t be easy. Yet… I know she’ll be fine.

It must have been hard to tell me. I hugged her because I understand. I hugged her because I felt her pain when I looked into her eyes. 2 years of celibacy with a guy she’s planning to marry and one slip up changed it all. I hugged her because I wanted to reassure her that I had her back. I hugged her because I wanted her to know that I would NEVER look down on her or treat her differently for what happened. I hugged her because I needed her to know that it’s okay...she's gonna be okay...they all will be okay. I hugged her because I wished everyday that someone would have hugged me 6 years ago when I was pregnant.

All I needed was a hug. A simple embrace. A shoulder to let my liquid emotions run down on. That would have helped me. I know it. Just to be able to tell someone and them not judge me. That would have maybe changed the outcome of things. It would have helped save a life. My baby’s life.
The guilt. The shame. The worry. The three major factors that took my baby’s life. You’d be amazed at the physical toll that worry can take on your body. *sigh*
I felt that no one would understand. I felt that my parents would kick me out and disown me. The perfect goody two shoes finally messed up. At 19, I saw the plus sign on a take home pregnancy test. I told my boyfriend of 2 months and we both knew what that meant. The pressure. The anxiety. I couldn’t eat… I couldn’t sleep. I worried constantly about how to tell everyone. I figured I’d have to move in with my boyfriend. Drop out of Emory and get a low paying job somewhere. I’d have to switch churches because I knew that mine would never let me live that down. I worried. I cried. I held it in. My belly grew… I wore girdles and baggier clothes. Till one day… my baby was gone. I felt horrible. The initial reality that your baby is gone is agony and it felt like a dagger in my heart…yet… as cruel as it seems…I also felt relieved. I hated that my baby was gone…but relieved that no one had to know. Grieving over a life that he/she was never able to start, yet glad that my life was no longer in immediate danger of ending. Sad that I’d always think about my baby and wish everyday that things would have went down differently, yet… happy that I wouldn’t have to pay for my one mistake. Little did I know… I'd pay for my mistake each and everyday. Constant reminders of the life that was almost here and suddenly gone, plague my thoughts so often I feel as if I’m constantly reliving those few months in ’99 over and over again. That’s plenty payback. Trust me. Worry… pressure…guilt…shame… killed my baby. I didn’t want that to happen to her.

Now she’s pregnant… and floods of memories come to my mind. My throat closed up and my eyes stung with tears. I didn’t know what to say to her although I knew EXACTLY how she felt.

So Sunday, outside of the church doors where she told me her news…. I just hugged her… and cried.

Tears flowed for the death of my child…and for the life of hers. Tears flowed for our shared hurt… and our shared strength. They flowed for our mutual excitement about the addition of this bundle of joy, and for the reality of the struggles with bringing another life into this cold, unfriendly world. I’m not sure how long we stood there embracing… sniffling…and crying…letting the sunlight wrap it’s arms around us and the serene sound of the September morning air whisper words of encouragement to us…. but… I do know that she NEEDED that hug. I hugged her because I needed her to know that it’s okay...she's gonna be okay...they all will be okay.... WE all will be okay.