A/N: This might be full of mistakes. I certainly hope not, but there's a chance that I made errors while talking about college and the pregnancy test. If so, please let me know so I can change it. This kind of writing is going to be a challenge for me. Constructive criticism is welcome.

I had just turned twenty-one. I was enjoying being a student teacher at the New Haven Science and Engineering Magnet School. (What a mouthful.) It had been six months since my wedding day and just one month since I had graduated from Yale University with my Bachelor's degree in my double major of choice, physics and secondary education, and my minor of choice, chemistry. I say it was a choice, but in fact, it was something that had been predestined for me when I was very young. Well, the science part had. But the education was something I had decided on myself, for once. I just knew that I was meant to be a teacher, and a good one at that. Perhaps I'd be a college professor at good old Yale.

In any case, I was on top of the world... an excited young bride and an accomplished student. I, being the logical Janine I had been all my life, decided to take the next logical step. I would earn my Master's degree at the Yale Graduate School of Arts and Sciences while my husband James (who was graduating from graduate school in May) started his successful law career. I was certain he would be promoted to a partnership in his firm someday, and we would celebrate his success and my success together.

My perfect plan was soon altered...

I came home early from work that day in February because the pounding headache and cramps had become too much. PMS? I certainly hoped so, but I had a funny feeling I was wrong about that. On my way home, I bought a home pregnancy test. But Janine the Genius ought to know if she's pregnant, right? Wrong. I didn't know what to think.

When I got home, I unintentionally set the test down on the kitchen counter right next to the application for the Yale Graduate School of Arts and Sciences. I grabbed myself a snack of peanut butter and crackers, poured myself some lemonade in a glass, and sat down on the bar stool. After my snack, I felt tired. I had been feeling so tired and sore lately. I decided I owed it to myself to take a short nap...

A short nap turned into an hour and a half. I'm not sure how I did it; I am not the kind of person that can just take a nap in the middle of the day for no reason. That worried me. Even more frightening was what happened when I tried to get up. I was struck with a sudden spell of dizziness and out of nowhere, I felt myself gagging. I ran to the bathroom and hung my head over the toilet just as the contents of what I had eaten were starting to come up.

I wandered into the kitchen, still feeling weird. Absently, I picked up my application and read over it. Everything was in order-- Letters of recommendation from my favorite professors at Yale, my official transcript, my GRE scores (I was quite proud of them), the check for the $80 application fee, a summary of my science grades, and my personal statement of purpose (which I slaved over after James suggested I try not to sound so much like a dictionary and be a little more natural.)

Then the pregnancy test caught my eye, and that's when it hit me. The papers fell from my hands and my jaw practically dropped to the floor when I was struck with another thought. What would happen to all my plans if I turned out to be pregnant? I couldn't put it off any longer; it was time to take that test and find out the truth.

So I went back into the bathroom and took it. And while I waited for the results to pop up... positive or negative... I worried about what would happen if I was pregnant. Would James be okay with it? Would my family be okay with it? And how would I manage graduate school and my job as a student teacher AND being a mommy? Would I have to give something up in order to handle it?

The box instructed me to take the test and wait five minutes. In just about that amount of time, my result appeared on the stick. Clearly and distinctly, It displayed a plus.

I began to panic. I had only been married for six months and now this? I just can't have a baby, I thought, not at twenty-one! Before I knew it, I was a mess, sobbing uncontrollably all over the bathroom floor. And just about that time, I heard James arriving home from work.

"Janine?"

"In... h-here," I sputtered.

"Honey, what's wrong?" He was at the door, "Are you okay? Can I come in?"

I nodded and then remembered he wouldn't have seen that. (Some genius I am.) I finally found my voice again. "Yes."

I didn't turn around, but I heard him open the door and come in. I was sitting on the bathroom floor, staring at the test that sat at my feet next to its box, still displaying the plus sign. I heard him gasp a little and I felt my body tense up.

James sat down beside me and touched my shoulder gently. "So, we're pregnant?"

"Obviously," I shot back, not liking the sound of my voice. James recoiled slightly and I buried my face in my hands. I began crying harder and trembling all over. He quickly slipped his hand in mine and gave it a squeeze.

"Janine, you've got to calm down. I promise it'll be okay," he said. "Besides maybe you aren't pregnant. Maybe the test is wrong."

"It's not," I managed to look at him. "I know its not. I even feel pregnant. And today- today while I was grading papers for Mr. Park, I kept having these headaches. And I've felt so sick and tired lately..."

"I believe you," James said, trying to be funny. I couldn't smile. I felt awful.

"But how could this happen? I thought we were being so careful."

"Not always," he reminded me.

I sighed deeply. "So what do we do?"

"We get ready to have a baby."

I pressed my lips together and nodded as one last tear slipped down my cheek. James took a tissue and quickly wiped it away. "No more crying now. I promise we can make this work." He paused. "And hey, the honest truth is, I've been wanting to have a baby since we got married."

"Me, too," I couldn't deny that. "But I figured it would be five years before we decided to have children. Maybe even longer. I never thought it would happen so soon... I mean, I'm only twenty-one years old." My voice shook again. I was having trouble convincing myself that it would be okay.

"You forget that I'm twenty-four. And perfectly capable of supporting you and the baby." He paused. "I know you usually prefer to do everything yourself, but I want you to lean on me sometimes. I'm your husband; that's what I'm here for."

Neither of us spoke for awhile. We sat on the bathroom floor, hand in hand. I was in my own world, wondering if everything happens for a reason. I remembered something my sister Claudia said once, many years ago. It was way back when she was in the eighth grade. That year she was sent back to the seventh grade. I knew she was devastated; I would have felt the same way. But when we sat down to talk about it, here's what she said:

"I can't see the good of this right now. But maybe I'm not meant to see it yet. I thing that someday when I look back on all of this, I will know exactly why it happened and be glad that it did."

Claudia was right. Somehow she did manage to make the best of it. And we could all see that in the long run, it was for the best. Now instead of being a senior in high school, she is still a junior. Amazingly, she doesn't resent any of this. She's on the honor roll, and she never could have done it without repeating the seventh grade. Claud says the extra year was worth it.

My baby. Right now, it seemed like a set-back. One day, I'll know it was a blessing.

2A/N (UPDATED): I know in the series that Claudia actually did get back into the eighth grade, and did not remain a grade behind the rest. But in my other story, "Vanessa's Great Idea," I made that mistake in the first chapter. However, I decided not to change it because it worked for my story.
Since the two stories are going to meet up, I am keeping it that way in this story as well. Claudia is finishing out her junior year; the other BSC members are finishing their senior years. Except for Mal and Jessi... they would be sophomores. Later on in this story, the others will graduate and Claudia will become a senior. ("Vanessa's Great Idea" began in August. Janine found out about being pregnant the previous February. So "Janine's Story" begins first even though I wrote it second. I probably should have mentioned that sooner. Sorry if anyone got confused. BTW, readers, for a better understanding read both of my stories!)