The first of June 1994 was the day everything changed for Jac.
"Cheer up kid. I know the little one gave us all a fright but she's doing well now. All that crying is exactly what we want to hear. You can hold her, if you want to." The gentle voice of the paediatrician gives Jac some comfort.
It has been around twenty minutes since she welcomed her child into the world. In that time she had delivered the placenta and managed not to bleed to death despite earlier worries that she might. She'd been in the hospital two days before her waters broke, her blood pressure keeping her in on bed rest and she managed to narrowly avoid a c-section which she is grateful for.
"I'm scared." She admits reluctantly, "What if she stops breathing?"
"I understand you're worried, given that she was a bit blue when she came out and needed some help breathing, but she's fine. Here's your daughter. Looks like we have another ginger in the room."
Jac looks down at the whimpering bundle placed in her arms, her eyes brimming with tears as her new reality begins to dawn on her.
"Hi. I'm your mum." She says quietly, looking down at her daughter in awe.
She remembers the day she realised she was pregnant. It had been almost three months since she'd gotten her first and only period, and she was sat in the bathtub crying. Her foster father had raped her again. It had been like this for months. She'd screamed endlessly the first time he'd come into her room at night, but it did nothing but make him violent so she stopped. It was no use anyway. His wife didn't care. She knew but she'd turn a blind eye. She knew alright. It was why she could never look her in the eye, not for long. She'd just slip her a fiver or two the next morning, a solemn expression on her face. Trying to buy her silence Jac thought.
There wasn't any need for that. She was too scared to tell anyone. No one would believe her. At least that's what she thought. She was a thirteen-year-old girl in foster care and he was a teacher. He had the perfect family. A doting wife who ran her bakery, always making pies and cakes for him to take into work. Childhood sweethearts, together since they were sixteen with twin sons, now training as pilots. He had a great reputation and she had no proof, so she stayed silent.
It was in that moment while she was sitting in the bathtub, the shower on and cascading down over her, that it dawned on her that she was pregnant. She might have been young, but she was far from stupid. At the time, she thought about abortion, she was just a child after all. She knew that having a baby would make her dreams of becoming a surgeon almost impossible. But part of her wondered if having her baby would give her the answers she wanted. The love she secretly craved.
Maybe she'd finally understand why her mother left. Why her father chose drugs over her. Why no matter what she did, no matter how many awards she won, she was never enough for her parents.
She wanted to feel loved by someone. To have someone love her unconditionally just because. She didn't want a boyfriend, not yet anyway. All the boys her age were stupid in her eyes. She wanted to feel the love of a family she'd seen in all the nicer of her foster placements. Not the fake friendliness of the group homes but real love. She hoped her baby would love her. She hoped that she could love her baby too.
Whether or not to get an abortion played on her mind for months. She hid her pregnancy at first but soon Mrs Blackwood could see the signs. It might have been twenty years ago, but she knew when she saw the bags under the girls eyes and heard her retching at the smell of coffee. She'd gently pressed the girl for more information and her heart had sunk when Jac burst into tears, reluctantly admitting that she was pregnant.
Soon Jac was met by Julia's own tears as she apologised for turning a blind eye to her husband's abuse. She was sobbing, saying she was sorry for not doing anything and she didn't want to acknowledge that she married a monster. She'd rambled about needing to apologise to her sister as this meant her niece was telling the truth all those years ago.
She thought of the unshakable feeling of being corrupted. Dirty. Violated. She'd often joke about the imaginary nature of her childhood with her best friend, who'd had her own run-in with social services. Jac had watched her father lose himself and eventually his life to heroin. Growing up in that environment had scarred her for life. Her neglectful mother had only made those scars run deeper.
The pair felt they'd never been innocent, never really been kids. But before the abuse started, Jac still had her hopes of a happy family. A better foster placement. She knew some kids got adopted by their foster families. She hoped it would be her, even if she was older and had 'behavioural issues' . He took that from her. He took so much from her. And so she couldn't anything but resentment towards Julia.
The next week was a blur. Julia had taken her to the GP surgery where her pregnancy was confirmed. To Jac's surprise, Julia tearfully admitted that her own husband was the father, and soon the police were called. She'd walked out of the consultation room, freezing, as Adam strolled over to her, playing the role of worried guardian. Thankfully, seconds later, a pair of police officers walked in, arresting him, and she felt tears run down her face as they whisked him away. She'd never been happier to see no one in the waiting room.
Later that day she heard Julia sobbing on the phone as she apologised fervently to her sister, revealing the situation at hand between sobs. Jac had slept with a pocket knife on the table, unable to feel safe even with him gone. Soon her bags were packed and she was sent to her fourth foster placement, an early-fifties widow who often took in young mothers.
She left silently, too angry to say a word to Julia. Angry that Julia had let this happen. Angry that she was too exhausted to shout that Julia had known, and that in her eyes she was just as guilty as her husband. Angry that she had never been able to fight back against him. Angry that the people who were supposed to keep her safe had hurt her, again.
All these memories swirled around Jac's head as she gazed down at her newborn child. She's barely fourteen and somehow now a mother. The child she'd faced so much criticism for choosing to keep finally safe in her arms.
"She's so small." Jac comments, stroking her baby's face relieved as she seems content, simply being held close to her mother. They'd told her the baby was going to be small, but she'd never realised just how tiny a newborn could be until she held her daughter. Born at thirty-six weeks and five days, she was only 4lbs 11oz and the smallest baby Jac had ever seen.
"Is she going to be okay? Being so little. I didn't know babies could be this small."
"She's fine. She's just tiny because you're so young and not that big yourself. She's also a month early, remember?"
She nods thinking of all the ultrasounds where they'd had worried about intrauterine growth restriction. They had said it the baby was probably constitutionally small, but they were being cautious which she appreciated. She couldn't imagine deciding to keep this child just to loose them at the end. It was why there seemed to be a million people in the room as she gave birth, all slowly leaving now.
"Congratulations sweetheart, she's adorable." Annie, the registrar who'd been monitoring Jac says, squeezing her shoulder,
She'd been nothing but kind to her which had touched Jac as she'd been faced with so much judgment in the past nine months. It was particularly touching how she'd been nice the minute she walked in, and saw Jac clearly underage and very pregnant.
Usually, the staff Jac had come across had been judgemental, only changing their tone and apologising as soon as they read her notes. Then they were more gentle, treating her like she made of glass which irritated her but Annie was different. She'd treated like Jac a person rather an object of pity and it was very much appreciated.
"You're so cute aren't you Artemis. I think you need a nickname don't you? How about AJ? You look like an AJ." She whispers, kissing the baby's forehead. All alone now, she's starting to bond with her daughter, realising how much her life will change. "When you're older I'm gonna take you to the park, and we can play pretend or whatever you want. You can have all the fun in the world. You'll always get to be a kid."
"I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you AJ. I'm gonna give you all the love I never had and we'll do alright. I promise you that much baby."
Years later she'd acknowledge that her reasons for keeping her daughter were immature but insist that it was the best decision for her. Somehow, despite the circumstances of her conception AJ gave her some form of peace. Yes, her existence was a reminder of her rapist and she dreaded having to explain the truth about the child's father to her. She'd needed eighteen months of therapy, starting in her second trimester just to deal with the prospect of having his baby. She was plagued by nightmares throughout her pregnancy, once having a panic attack caused by worries she'd have to share her child with him. Another triggered by a SHO having the same surname as him, thankfully no relation. Her mind has gone to the darkest places she could imagine, and she thought of suicide on occasion. Yet on the that day in 1994, when she held AJ for the first time, it felt like everything would be alright. All the fear that she'd hate her daughter faded away and she loved her daughter more than she could have ever imagined.
She would never recommend having a baby at fourteen. In fact, she'd tell any girl in the position she was to seriously consider terminating the pregnancy. Being a teenage mother was hard. Harder when you were in foster care, no parents to guide you or babysit. There were times when she wondered if she was being selfish, if struggling with this child was selfish but raising AJ brought Jac joy. For her happiness was scarce and she cherished her daughter all the more.