3.4 Tasmine Writing 1

 Motherhood During Childhood

    New Year's Eve 2011 was a party that I would never forget. I was surrounded by my very best friends and of course, my high school love. We all hung out together, bringing in the new year with good music, great people, and even better drinks. And, woah, I can definitely say I can't drink now like I did in those days. Sixteen-years-old and feeling like I was on top of the world that night but it was hard to pull myself together over the next few days. 

    I knew something was wrong when my usual "hangover cures" wouldn't help me feel any better, so I scheduled an appointment with a pediatrician. My immediate family all moved back to Virginia over the years, so I had no established doctor. Upon completing my exam, the pediatrician greeted me with, "congratulations Ms. Thompson, you are expecting."

    As inappropriate as it was I said the first thing that came to mind, which was, "you're fucking kidding me, right?"

    She handed me my paperwork and left the room.

    I gathered my things, stuffed my papers away, and hurried out of the room. Down the hall. Out the doors. I hurried all the way until I reach the vehicle I had drove there and then I sat down. I stared out the window. Something broke my concentration of nothing so I began driving back to school.

    Sixteen years old. Senior year of high school. No family. No support system. And pregnant. 

    That's when things started to flood my mind. All the questions, all the comments, all the concerns, and not one clue where to start. 

    By the time I had gotten back to the high school, I had achieved a new level of anxiety. As I walked to class a younger friend, who I still view as a very close friend even after her passing, she commented on my presence at that time. Her comment made me feel safe to tell her my secret, the one thing only I knew. So I told her. 

    She was happy, of course. I think that's often most people's immediate reaction to such news. And just like I suspected, her first question was, "have you told him?" 

    When I told her that I hadn't, she asked why not.

    "Because I'm scared. What if he doesn't want to be apart of this? What do I do? I wasn't even properly raised, how am I suppose to raise a child? And on my own? I'm scared. I don't even know how to tell him."

    Bless her heart, she said to me, "I'll be right by your side, no matter what happens."

    As we walked up to my son's father, anxiety blaring, he knew something was up. With shakiness in my voice, I shared our news and he reacted,

    We spent days talking about our decisions, but we knew from the beginning what our decision was. As we began to tell family and friends, we felt the secrecy our of gift begin to fade as the time passed with the blink of an eye. 

    When the middle of my pregnancy came, we were given news that was rather shocking, but we felt it wasn't to alarming. I mean, clubbed feet happen to children in the womb all the time, right? 

    Clubbed feet was only the beginning of the obstacles are child started to experience after entering the world five weeks prematurely. As we later learned the name of his life-long diagnosis, Deletion 22Q1.1., we have hurdled over every obstacle that has came before him.

    When I thought I was given my son because he needed me, all along I was given my son, because I needed him. Through life with my now-ten year old son, I have experience, pain, heartache, and what felt like torture sometimes, but I've also experienced love in its truest form, I've experienced life in the slow lane, never taking for granted the simplest of things. To hear your child say, "mommy! Did you hear that?! I HEARD THAT!" Because he finally got a second hearing aid, to hear with both ears, those moments can't be bought, they can't be taught, the memories, obstacles, and lessons I have learned in life the last ten years with my son by my side, those are what have made me who I am today.