My First Pregnancy

My first pregnancy was a whirl wind of emotion. I was 17 at the time and knew that my baby whether I choose to have it or not would be a life changer. My father is a minster and my mother a nurse so this was a big issue, not to mention I had a living being growing inside me. I happened to be one of those lucky girls who actually stumbled across a good guy. He stood by me lovingly as we faced what we thought would be certain doom. Abortion was never a real option for me because I was taught it was wrong, but as thoughts churned through my head I could see how others could consider it. To carry a baby, my baby to term and feel each movement would make giving it away impossible. I had to face the facts I was having a baby. Once I got over the shock the results of my at home pregnancy test had put me in I got real. I armed myself with knowledge. I enjoyed learning how my baby grew and what I could do to make this child a happy healthy one. My parents eventually got over the shock and became excited as well when they saw how serious I was about taking care of this new life. My boyfriend was supportive and determined to be a good father and provider. It was something his father never did. He kept me on my toes by making sure I took my vitamins and got enough rest. He even made sure i was eating enough and gaining to appropriate amount of weight. I stayed in school and went everyday. This was fueled by thoughts that I now not only had to worry about myself but my precious baby as well. Plus the fact that my counselor told me that would never be able to continue my honors classes and graduate on time challenged and angered me. My teachers were so supportive they asked about my health often and not one of them ever put me down. I remember that my baby like math class the best…as I listened to the lectures he would jump and kick and move around it was like he in some weird way could understand. I was not going to let myself, my baby, family, or boyfriend down so I pressed through to the end. The everyday climb up the stairs to get to my classes had become a struggle and to add to the pressure I had begun to dilate. For about a week and a half I would go to school and climb those painful steps just to be sent back home. The time was getting closer and all my bliss was temporarily interrupted by old fears. What if he leaves me? How will we survive? Will I be a good mother ? Did I have anything valuable or wise to give my baby? I expressed these fears to my mother and she responded by saying if we were this determined then we would make it. I to this day thank her for that reassurance I really needed it. It was down to the wire i didn’t even know it. I woke early that morning and made sure that my baby’s room was okay. I counted the diapers hoping that I had enough. I laid out his little welcome home outfit that smelled of hope and excitement. Breakfast was great that morning I just felt a little green but otherwise fine. There was one thing bothering me though, It felt like I was being tickled in my vaginal area….little did I know. I was having the beginning signs of labor. My mother instantly knew what was going on but decided not to share it with me. She instead sat and talked with me and persuaded me to take a long walk with her. The only thing that tipped me off was her often glances at her watch. We talked about hopes and dreams and how I should not give up on them. My boyfriend even became a topic of our conversation. She asked me if I thought he would stay with me and the baby and if not what were my plans. The topics were deep but they were necessary as well. In the middle of one of my sentences she said, "They’re every two minutes and about four to five minutes duration we need to get you to the hospital. I was stunned I didn’t even realize I had been cringing but my mother picked up on it. She called my boyfriend and my father and away we went. Laying in the hospital bed was surreal. This was it. My boyfriend arrived and he was obviously nervous it was both annoying and cute. My mother calm attitude faded and she became overbearing using every minor moans as a reason to wipe my head with a cloth and pat my hand. I pushed and pushed and finally my baby was here. Time stood still as I waited on him to cry. He didn’t and I became panicked as the doctor held him and was trying to encourage him to breathe. I never felt so much in so little time as I did in those minutes. The tears streaming down my cheeks were interrupted by the sweet sound of my child’s cry. Hope had been restored and I knew at that moment I was changed. Nothing compared to birth. The pain was like nothing I ever felt before and the joy when I was locked eye to eye with my son was indescribable.

My First Pregnancy

hiresholmes

Melbourne, United States

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