Lils-Glad you are enjoying it and the Shirley and Wynnie stuff as well!
July 2018
9 weeks
How to be supportive and not blow a gasket(like I did) when your teenage daughter is pregnant. -By Anne Shirley
When my youngest came to her father and me with a positive pregnancy test. I was taken aback. I was shocked, I was In disbelief. I was sadly angry.
Here was my sixteen-year-old baby, having a baby
My disciplined, fairly self-assured, talented daughter with pregnant.
I am no stranger to teen pregnancy.
I was 18 years old, a senior in high school when I had my first child, back in the 80s. It wasn't forgiving, it wasn't easy. We were young and naive to truly understand the commitment of marriage and children.
Today we're more forgiving and working in education I see my fair share. Girls are allowed to finish school, it's not all hush-hush. We try our best to give them
Options routes to take to finish their education, even for the fathers.
Still, I found myself boiling over with anger looking at my daughter wondering who she even was. Wondering about all the secrets she kept close to her heart, I couldn't help being frustrated with her.
I had forgotten just what it was like, to be in that position. I couldn't understand why? Why do this? I think back to my own attitude and I am rather ashamed of myself, I had behaved appallingly and I had more than one person tell me that as well.
Then when I thought things were settled, decisions were made or being decided. It all came out, who the father was, how it happens. It sent both of our familiar reelings, grasping at straws as we knew each other.
We spent hours trying to make sense of this revelation and what it means for our children. Lengthy talks about custody orders, weariness about how they interacted with each other, how age differences can cause power imbalances. Yet watching them, it was easy to see the magnitude that caused the pull that brought them together.
It was easy to see and understand why this happened.
But what comes next? This wasn't the 1980s anymore, marriage isn't needed these days. Co-parenting is normal and can produce well-adjusted children if done right.
Still, I struggled and I watched my daughter grow close to this young man. Shouldn't I have been the one comforting her? Though when I tried I was often pushed away?
There are times when she reminds me she is only sixteen, scared, and unsure of what the future holds for her at this moment. Sometimes it felt like it was a dream. That this wasn't happening but was it was. It took a long night in the hospital, holding her hand after waking up bleeding, that sent us into overdrive
It's always hard to step back, to watch your children grow up before your eyes. I feel like I missed so much in a blink of an eye. I remember those late-night talks with my older daughters, about boys and relationships. Those moments when you realized that they weren't little anymore. Yet it was something my youngest never wished for from me, and sometimes I can't help but wonder why we are this way?
I still don't understand everything between us, and while life is a lot more chaotic. Seeing my granddaughter for the first time, was overwhelming. Yes, things are better now, but the struggle is still there.
I regret a lot, I am ashamed of how I reacted over the past nine months.
If I have to advise anyone Parent in a similar position. I say:
—Take a deep breath, They are just as scared as you are for them. Motherhood/Fatherhood is not a walk in the park.
—It's not the end of the world, even if it seems to be.
—Respect their choices even if they differ from yours.
—You will be parenting, a parent. You will have to adjust the rules, but also accept the parenting they choose for their child.
—Make a plan that involves everyone's inputs, but remember plans can change and if something isn't working. Don't be afraid to change things as long as it's agreed for everyone involved.
—Decide living and financial situations. Can you help out financially if they are to live with you? If so, make an agreement and stick to it. Babies cost money, more than your teenager will have.
—You will have differences in opinions, you will argue and no one will get much sleep those first few months.
The moral of this story is that no matter your reaction, remember it is not the end of the world. Especially if you're there for them, whether it be a hug, advice or just to listen.
"You wrote about me! You freaking wrote about me!" I shout at my mom as I throw a magazine at her. I was seething, thinking back to the nights that were calm and mom actually seemed to care, now it just felt like all an act to me.
I had been at the doctor's office when I saw it flipping through a magazine.
At first, it seemed like some funny coincidence, but the more I read the more I saw it. This was mom's writing, this was about us and details of my life were written out for everyone to read about. Anger welled up in me, feeling betrayed and used at least Ken's Dad asks permission to show off Owen, and let me pre-read his statement.
Heck, I even got a written apology from Royce Murtaugh! Yet mom dares to write me, us and not even tell me about it?
I fuming all the way home on the bus, Owen strapped to my chest the entire way. (It had been her two-month appointment and everyone was working so I had gone by myself)
"Excuse me?" Mom said sternly. "You do not throw things like a child."
"You wrote about me!" I cry, feeling more betrayed than angry. "You wrote about us and didn't even ask me what I thought about it, didn't even think to mention it! What if I didn't want details of my life, or relationships are written about? You write about support and acceptance, but yet you still didn't even ask, run it by me, let me god damn read it before you had it published?"
"Rilla," I hear mom start off.
"I can't, I just can't, right now," I tell her as Owen begins to cry. I turn quickly and go up the stairs.
I'm still crying as I try to calm Owen in my arms. Really the only thing that ever gets her to be quiet is sticking her on my boob. Even though I hadn't fed her all that long ago, I give in. I arrange myself in a way that I can manage to read Lord of the Rings on my tablet as she nurses. Something I started lately, hell sometimes I even read to her out loud. Outlining the adventures of Frodo and his friends, sometimes I would look down at her and see her starring at me and it would feel like the most perfect moment. Sure Dr. Morgan advises against obsessive use of electronics while nursing, something about the whole distraction and not bonding, but really? She feeds constantly, how long can I just sit there and stare at a baby nursing?
I stop reading for a moment, my ears picking up my parents downstairs. I can hear dad ask what I was going on about now. It actually annoying that you could hear almost everything in the house sometimes from this room.
At least dad was on my side, it seemed as I heard him argue with mom about not asking me first after a quiet moment.
I was just fixing the clasp on my bra when there was a knock on my door, with Dad's voice saying my name.
I put Owen in her bassinet making sure she was fully burped and opened it.
"Come on," Dad says from my door. "Your mother will watch Owen, just come with me." He tells me. I'm confused, to say the least, but follow him after grabbing my purse. Dad grabs the baby monitor to bring it downstairs and goes to bring it to mom as I put on my shoes and wait outside for him.
Dad doesn't say anything but hands me the keys to his car and I stare at him. "Be thankful I'm not making you drive with Owen just yet," he tells me and I sigh.
I get in on the driver's side and adjust my seat until I feel comfortable and look at my dad.
"Check your mirrors, if you're happy then start the car," he tells me.
"Did you know what she was writing?" I ask as I go through the steps with the mirrors. God when was the last time I drove? Did I even remember how?
"The last time I asked your mother what she was writing she made me read it and it was something strange with faeries. So no I did not," Dad chuckles lightly, and shakes his head before giving me a few more instructions about driving and I pulled out of the driveway. "But I did ask for a copy to read before I came up to see you through and I read it though."
I nod my head as I focus on the road.
"For what it's worth, if I had read it I would have got her talk to you about it and okayed it with you first. I understand her writing it, she was trying to process her side of things. Let other parents know they aren't alone, but she was wrong to hide it. Hell, it may have helped the two of you talk about things possibly."
"Yet she didn't?" I say starring out to the road as I drove.
"She sent it a few weeks ago. Probably about the time when Owen wasn't reacting well to your diet and you were preoccupied." Dad explains with a sigh. "Not that it doesn't make it right, not after the Toronto fiasco."
I don't know what to say, and because of it I almost miss a stop sign, and break harshly, lurching my dad slightly forward in his seat. "Sorry!"
"It's fine, this is why Owen is not with us right now," Dad reminds me. "Just pay attention and ease onto the break, don't stomp on it unless it's an emergency. You can go," he tells me and I carefully step on the gas.
I drive out to the coast, mostly because the road is dead and I know the way well enough, and it's a long enough drive that I gain a bit of confidence as I do.
"The old lighthouse?" Dad asks amused. "Isn't the Wests…?" his voice trails off realizing just where I drove to? "Never mind," his ears turn a touch red realizing just where I drove to because of the fight.
"Ken and I sometimes come out here to just think, or talk. Well, we used to, haven't much time for anything lately," I explain to him as I put the car in park and shut it off.
"You have both doing very well," Dad says. "We were worried in the beginning but you have adapted very well. It can be quite an adjustment even for the most prepared circumstances."
"She didn't even ask, she went all psychotic when the whole thing happened in Toronto, but here she was writing about to the world. There may have been no pictures involved, but it was still had details of my life. Like being at the hospital after Christmas, or her constant confusion of why we always seem to fight when Nan and Di, even Joy were never like this. Then those moments the weeks before and a little bit afterwards when she seemed to care or understand. Now it just feels like it was all fake, that it was just for that article."
"That's not true and you know that Rilla,"
"Doesn't mean it doesn't feel like that," I tell him. I hear dad sigh and run his hand over his short-cut hair. "Sometimes it felt like I was just afterthought when Walter was sick. It was Joy and Jem that spent more time watching over me than you and mom," I tell him for the first time
"I don't think that is quite fair to say. We were trying hard to hold together our family after Walters episode," Dad tells me with a frown. "It may have not been perfect but we tried out best."
"I was eleven what was I supposed to think or feel?" I tell him pushing back at him, my head hitting the steering wheel as I mentally shut off before I could say more.
"Would you have rather Walter not be here?" Dad says simply pointing out the obvious to me.
"Of course not," I blurt out. I never said I wished my brother dead. "I love Walter!"
"I know you do," Dad said with a calm smile.
"So is Shirley moving out?" I ask trying to change the subject.
"Actually, we were meaning to talk to you now that things are settled," Dad says.
"Why?" I asked.
"Your mother and I decided that maybe it was best if Wynnie needed a place to live, that she could move in with us. She and Shirley are going to use the basement for a home base. It will allow them both to continue with school without having to worry too much about finances."
"Take over the basement?" I ask….feeling once again like the floor was being pulled from under me.
"Before you start freaking out, I knew that you plan to work at the dance studio in the fall and need a place to practice. Since the spare room next to yours has wood floors. I thought we could put your barre, mirrors and marly flooring in there for you. That way you can't disturb your brother or Wynnie in the mornings."
"You're letting Shirley's girlfriend move in?" I ask him still bewildered by the news.
"It's just easier this way. She practically demanded to pay us a bit of rent to cover some expenses but we think it will benefit both of them much more than moving out right now?" Dad says simply. "They can save more money and not have to worry as much during school. Once Shirley is graduated, then they can consider moving out together."
I shake my head at them.
"You do realize the large amount of irony that comes from you teaching me to drive after I blew up at mom?" I tell him thinking about it.
"You mean giving you just another way to run away from us every time you're mad?" Dad chuckles. "You don't have a car, so I'm not worried about that. However, you do need to get comfortable. Getting yourself to doctor appointments will be easier for you. Much like when you start working again. It will be good for you to not have to rely on us, the bus or even Ken." Dad tells me.
"Fair enough," I say with a sigh. "So hypothetically, how and when do I get a car to use?"
"When you're able to buy one for yourself," Dad gives me a look. "Like your siblings before you. You'll have the privilege to ask to borrow one of the cars when you need it, but it's a privilege. It's not a right and you will have to help pay for insurance when you do."
I nod my head. I drive home, feeling a bit better, but still very wound up from everything. I awkwardly pull into the driveway, away from Ken's car. I had forgotten it was his night.
I still avoid mom when I sneak up the stairs, I smile as I hear Ken talk to Owen in my room.
"Sorry impromptu driving lesson," I tell him from the doorway.
"It's all good," Ken tells me as he makes a funny face at her and she smiles at him.
"Why is my journal open?" I blurt out, looking over at my dresser that also had my pointe shoes that were drying( I had been gluing to try and make them last longer this morning) seeing it wide open instantly fearing he read it or something.
"You left it open?" Ken replies giving a weird look. "I saw it at a glance until I realized what it was, so I flipped it around just in case anyone else came in and saw it? Though it all looked like gibberish numbers to me anyway."
"Sorry," I say grabbing it and tossing it in my dresser drawer. "How is she?" I ask him as I grab my dirty laundry and push it aside.
"Shouldn't I be asking that since I was the one who couldn't make the doctor's appointment?" Ken asks teasing me.
"She's all good, gaining weight and getting bigger. She wasn't happy for a moment when he gave her to shots but she seems to be all right though she may get a low fever or cranky." I tell him.
"She was giving your mother a hard time when I came by crying and all that," Ken told and I couldn't help but smirk a bit at what he said.
I reach out and feel cheek, she felt a normal temperature. "And Daddy came and saved the day did he?" I say to her sing-song-like. "How was work?"
"It was work, it's busier because of the summertime, more tourists," Ken replies. "Actually, umm, I was wondering? With work is busier and I'm having a hard time trying to get things done at my place with only Tuesday night, because I end up in overtime. Would you mind if I stayed home on Thursdays, so I can get things done?"
"Oh!" I say taking a step back from him, as he burned me with his words. "I mean she's getting older, she can always spend a few hours at your place. I can always bring her over?" I tell him.
"That doesn't really solve my issues Rilla," Ken replies back with a small groan. "I'm never home, I need to clean, do more laundry than just my underwear once a week. I need to get a haircut, go grocery shopping, go to the car insurance place, the eye doctor one day because I think my prescription changed and I need contacts, stuff- things I can't do during the day."
"Yes, because I can do all that on any given day. I'm lucky if I can shower and get a walk to the park in-between feedings and naps." I snap at him.
"Rilla," Ken says as if he wants to rub his temples. "It's not like I want to, I just have to."
"It's fine Ken, if it doesn't fit your schedule it's fine. I'll manage as I do on Tuesdays" I say turning back as I tidy up the changing table. Tuesdays were a day of non-stop, sometimes Olivia came over to see me, but I was never that much fun in the evenings. Thursday also meant Dad was at work and Mom had her book club.
"Obviously it's not, I'm sorry but trying to balance working forty hours a week. Doing general life things when I'm only home one evening a week. It's not exactly easy."
"Well, at least you get to sleep, uninterrupted every night," I snap at him again.
"You know what, I'm going to take her for a walk before this becomes something else," Ken tells me. "I'll be back in a bit,"
"She'll be hungry soon!" I protest.
"She'll be fine it's just a walk to the park and back," Ken says shaking his head. "I'm not asking for much, I know you're with her all day every day, but I don't live here Rilla. I have things I need to do and only have a few hours a week to do them. Of course one day I would love to have her to myself for a few hours at my place, but who knows when that will be." He says as he grabs the diaper bag. "I'll be back within the hour." He tells me before leaving my room.
"At least put a sweater on her!" I shout at him, but I don't try to stop him, really there is no point. I flop down on my bed and scream into my pillow.
I contemplate smothering myself when I hear my mother.
"Parenting, relationships, trying to fit in everything isn't always easy."
"Do we have to do this right now?" I ask her and mom gives me a look and I sigh.
"First off, I'll come back to you and Ken in a moment, but I wanted to apologize for not running the article by you first. I tried my best to only talk about my feeling, but according to your father, that is what you most angry about? Which you have every right to be, I did betray you by announcing it to the world before you knew about how I felt, didn't I?"
I shrug my shoulders. "I mean I'm not the easiest person to talk to, I'm not like Nan and Di, I'm not Joy who grew up sitting in your lap while studying."
"You used to be?" Mom says frowning. "Then you just grew up and didn't need me anymore."
"I always needed you, but you just were busy. I learned to rely on myself because it was easier than needing you," I tell her and I can see her frown. "I know it couldn't be helped, you were preoccupied with Walter."
"You know I always felt guilty for how unavailable we were during those times," Mom says with a sigh. "I always tried to tell myself maybe it wasn't that bad, but clearly you took it to heart more than I ever thought you did."
"You were trying to keep Walter alive, it's not like I don't get it. Walter got the help he needed because you made sure he did. We like alive Walter," I tell her biting my lip. I shake my head at the flashbacks of younger me, begging her to not go, that I didn't need help with my school work.
"Either way I am sorry, that I never told you about the article," Mom says as she sits on my bed. "So what were you arguing about?"
I shrug a shoulder and she pokes me in the hip in response.
"He asked if I would be all right if he took Thursday night off so he can do more things piling up at his place and life," I tell her.
"Which is valid, he's always here which is sweet but your father and I did wonder how long it would last?" Mom hums. "Not that we don't mind feeding him, but it's not quite the same for him at least. So what's the issue?"
"What's the issue? I'm here twenty-four hours a day with her. I'm the one up every night with her, or up at five am because she'd rather play than go back to sleep. Why should he get free time when I can't even take a bloody shower alone most days?"
"Welcome to life where nothing is fair?" Mom tells me simply. "It would be different in different circumstances, but I don't think he's asking for much. He's still around much more than other father who isn't living with the mother. Plus when she's older and weaned he'll get his solo days and realize how exhausting it is to care for a child with no break or help. I spent many solo evenings, even days when your father was in medical school and we were married!"
"God, if he can't even manage work and being here for her, how the hell am I going to manage school?" I cry out, letting out what freaks me out.
"You will learn, manage, cry a lot probably?" Mom says simply. "Much like Ken is learning that you can't do everything you want to. I have no doubt he would be here every night if he could manage it, but he knows he needs to do things for himself and his life, so he can provide for Owen."
I sigh and groan into my pillow.
"Though, at the mention of school, I thought maybe to help you out this year maybe I can find you a tutor in the summer. Get you a head start on a course or two," Mom says and I freeze up, though she doesn't seem to notice. "Susan Baker is a retired teacher and offered to help you if needed complete some school work."
"Wasn't she the resource and foods class teacher?" I ask mom.
"She was but she's also taught English and Math over the years," Mom nods her head and I nod mine back ask well.
"Isn't that going to cost more money?" I ask her worried.
"It's school, don't worry about it," Mom tells me shaking her head. "Again I'm sorry, I truly am Rilla."
"Is there any other articles in the works?" I ask her with a touch of hesitance in my voice.
"No, but if there is I will talk to you about them and have the final say on the parts about your life," Mom tells me. "Pinky promise?" She holds out her pinky to m and I look at it and wrap my own around hers and we pinky promise. "Now you should also apologize to Ken as well tonight."
I sigh and look up at my ceiling. "I will later," I tell her.