Mother’s day twenty-seven years ago I found out I was pregnant. I was nineteen, unmarried and scared sick. A home pregnancy test confirmed what I suspected. I thought it was nerves. I just finished college finals, but I passed with flying colors and I was still throwing up. I was three months late, but that in itself didn’t raise any red flags. That was normal for me. I was craving fruit; papayas, and mangos. I ate lots of strawberries and I had even dropped a few pounds.
Oh my God I was pregnant, but maybe I wasn’t. It was just a home pregnancy test. It could be wrong, so I made an appointment with the doctor. It was going to cost one hundred dollars, which was exactly one hundred dollars I didn’t have. I didn’t want to use my insurance. My parents would get the bill, so I lied to my mom about why I needed the money, on Mother’s day. That added an extra layer of guilt to the lies I was quickly weaving. When did I become a liar?
Was that hope mixed with guilt? I certainly wasn’t hoping to be pregnant, but the rush of love I felt for a being I just found out about was surprising. I undoubtedly loved her from the very second I knew she existed. I didn’t know she was a she, but yet I did. I felt her, or was I just making this up? The confusion made for a nasty soup of emotions I felt totally unprepared to deal with.
I called my boyfriend from a pay phone after leaving the doctor’s office later that week. We were going to be parents.
Time flies. It really does. That beautiful surprise baby is getting married next month. She’s looking forward to starting a family of her own.
Was it easy? Absolutely not, but is it ever easy? There are always obstacles no matter how prepared you are, but the love is great. The love is worth it. My circumstances were not ideal. I did that, but I also chose life, a beautiful life, her life and I am grateful to be her mother.