Throwback Thursday: Week 3
It’s the year 2006.
Its approximately eight weeks after my sixteenth birthday.
My large, round belly carries a tiny little boy inside.
My belly button protrudes playfully from my light pink shirt.
I am the only girl in my high school whose walk resembles a penguin.
It is thirty four days before his due date.
Thirty four days until he takes his first breath.
Thirty four days until I officially become a mom.
I’m scared out of my mind,
Even though I try tirelessly to hide my fear.
I have my usual confident and giggly demeanor.
A smile is the mask I hide behind.
I tell myself I don’t care what they think,
But my eyes avoid the disapproving looks,
And I stare at the floor when I walk.
I refuse to admit how it hurts me,
The way they judge me,
The way they look at me with disgust and contempt.
They way they shake their heads with pity,
of the inevitably horrendous life my child is destined to lead.
After all, what good can possibly come from a young teenage mother?
If I am stupid enough to get pregnant, I must be too stupid to be a good parent.
They think I don’t hear their whispers.
I refuse to cry.
I will NOT let them see me cry.
It’s not like what they think really matters,
But for some reason their hatred still burns.
They don’t care that inside all I want is someone to hear me,
They don’t care that I just want someone to talk to.
They don’t care how many people have abandoned me.
They just want to feel superior.
They just want someone to laugh at.
They just want their lives to feel a little less empty,
Talking about me deflects from that I suppose.
In a way I feel sorry for them,
For living their lives with so much hate.
I feel his tiny feet kick inside me,
As if to remind me he is still there.
To remind of the reason my life has changed,
And how all of it is more than worth it;
How he is more than worth it.
I hold my head a little higher,
Half smiling to myself.
I feel a little warmer,
And the sky is a little bluer.
Because one day, years from now,
My son will know how hard it was.
And in his heart I know he will thank me,
For choosing choosing love,
For choosing life,
For choosing him.
Even if I have nothing else in this world,
I have my baby,
And I have my God.
My God restores and reconciles,
My God turns ashes into something beautiful.
And I believe in His promises of a hope and a future,
And I believe that however motherhood may come,
It is always a miracle.