I’m pregnant! –an exclamation point, can be communicated with excitement or sadness/panic/concern. Unfortunately, at 19, I knew it wouldn’t be with excitement.
The first person, outside of Sofia’s father, who had the pleasure of witnessing the tears of a nineteen-year-old was my aunt. By aunt, I mean family friend who happened to be neighbor and always there for me through the best and worst of times. It was her birthday and she knew, like I did, in her gut, that I was pregnant. She laughed. I cried. She saw the light at the end of the tunnel – the positive aspects of being a mother, even at a young age. My mom, on the other hand, saw it otherwise…
It was a Friday around 4:00 PM when I stood in a parking lot talking to my mom and hinting at the news. Unfortunately, Barnes and Nobles does not carry a book on, “How to Tell Your Mom You’re Pregnant in Your Teens.” It kinda just, comes out. That’s what happened, it came out. I don’t remember my words or the words of my mom, but I can summarize them. They weren’t good. My mom felt that I had lost my childhood.
The next part I have stood by till this day, Wednesday, February 22nd, 2017. I decided to share with everyone else via Facebook. I did not want to explain myself or have judgments passed that can be seen with my own eyes. I knew anything, anyone had to say, would be nothing comforting. I allowed social media to be the channel that communicated my pregnancy to friends, family, and strangers because ripping off the Band-Aid was the easier thing to do. Did I handle it like that adult I was about to become? That’s up for debate.