So, naturally that left me in a very awkward and extremely life-altering situation, with an enormous decision to make. I was a twenty-two-year-old kid; not married; working; in school; and now not only was I responsible for myself, but the life growing inside of me. I couldn't and didn't want to bring myself to believe that the father of my child truly meant when he said he wanted nothing to do with the child. I could live with him not wanting to be with me anymore, but in my opinion, a child needs both a mother and a father growing up no matter what the circumstances are.
I didn't have a clue in hell as to what I was going to do. Obviously, I knew what my options were. I could give birth to my baby and be the best damn mother I could possibly be, or I could give birth to my baby and place it up for adoption. Never in my wildest dreams did I for one second even consider the third alternative. I have nothing against people who choose that route, but as far as I was concerned, it was absolutely out of the question. To be perfectly honest, adoption didn't seem like much of an option to me, either.
Obviously, that only left me with one option and one option only. I was going to go through with my pregnancy. I was going to give birth to my baby, and become the best damn mother I could possibly be. Whatever I needed to do to make sure my baby was taken care of, I was going to do it. That meant there was a lot of growing up I was going to have to do. And I was going to have to do it quick. I was going to raise my baby, though. I was determined that my baby would know the love and affection and concept of family because of me and my family. Not some strangers.
Now that I had decided without a shadow of a doubt that I was going to keep my baby, that meant I was going to have to begin planning for what was about to happen.
Logically, at least in my mind, the first thing that I needed to do was tell my parents about the baby. And not just my parents, either. I was going to have to tell my entire immediate family. That meant telling Chris, his wife, Nancy, Lana, her husband Mark, and their families.
Going into telling my entire immediate family that I was pregnant was probably one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I was much, much more than nervous about telling them. As a matter of fact, I was beyond nervous. To be quite honest, I was scared out of my ever-loving mind.
That year, while on Christmas break from school, I decided that was about as perfect of time as ever to tell them about the baby. Mind you, by then I was a couple months along in my pregnancy, I might add. I thought that our traditional family get-together at my parents house would be the perfect setting to tell them seeing as how all of my immediate family would be there.
Or at least I hoped more than words could explain that it would be the perfect setting.
I wanted to believe with my all my heart and soul that I had absolutely nothing to fear. After all, we'd always been a close, tight-knit family. I knew better, though. I knew that it was not going to be an easy conversation for me to have with family by any means.
