Tried to make this less depressing than previous chapters x 9/09/2024: Rewrote this because it felt disjointed.

25th of December 1994

So much can change in a year. A year ago, Jac had found herself curled up under a duvet, too depressed and too sick to intrude on a family's festivities. She had been discharged from the hospital after a month-long stay due to excessive morning sickness, which had turned out to be hyperemesis gravidarum. Being unable to keep even water down was awful, and was only worsened by being thirteen and having a baby. Everything is worse when you're thirteen, especially being pregnant.

She'd still insisted she didn't want to terminate the pregnancy, saying she wanted to keep the baby. She knew everyone disapproved, whether it be the social worker or teachers who'd send her work she'd complete diligently; no one thought she should have the baby. No one thought she could cope. She understood why, but it still hurt.

It had been a week before Christmas when she'd had her latest ultrasound and found out that the baby was a girl. A daughter. She was relieved, though she was too ashamed to admit it. For all her insistence that she wanted the baby and was going to love it and raise it regardless, part of her was terrified that she might give birth to a boy who'd be just like his father. Not just have his blonde hair or his blue eyes, but grow up to be a monster like the man who'd hurt her.

But it wasn't a boy. She wasn't having his son. She was having his daughter. No her daughter. Her baby wouldn't be his. She wasn't going to let him occupy her thoughts. The baby she was planning to bring into this world would be her's. She was going to create the family she'd never had for herself. She wanted to be the mother she'd longed for and needed.

Everyone said she was being irrational. They said even if she was capable of being a decent mother, she was too young and she'd struggle to become anything in this life. They said she was too bright. They said she could have the baby adopted. If you don't want to get an abortion you could give her up, maybe even an open adoption they could tell her you're her sister and let you visit every now and then. You'd get to see her grow up in a way but you'd still get a chance to make something of yourself.

She'd refused vehemently, both due to a growing attachment to her unborn daughter and a lack of trust in anyone but herself to care for the child. Social services would arrange the adoption and, given that they'd put her under his roof, she had no belief that they'd keep her daughter safer than she would with her. After all, if life had taught her anything, it was that just because they're supposed to look after you doesn't mean they will.

Now a year on from that dreadful period, she was sat in her latest bedroom with her baby, still in awe that she finally had someone who seemed to love her. Things weren't perfect, she'd become everyone's favourite target at school because having a baby in year nine was always going to make you stand out. The first few months of Artemis' life had been exhausting between the sleepless nights and the harsh reality that her baby truly relied on her for everything, it had been a difficult adjustment but she was determined not to give her baby away. At last it seemed that she was now finally in the swing of things.

"Morning buba. Aw don't cry. Mama's back now. Seriously, I disappear for two seconds to pee, and you wake up crying. It's like you can sense I'm gone."

With her suicidal thoughts almost at bay, and that man behind bars, she felt like she could breathe for the first time. It had been the most difficult period in her life, and she still had days where she'd cut at her thighs to keep her pain at bay. It wasn't healthy; she knew that, but she was getting the help she needed, and she was focused on making sure her and her daughter would have the best life possible. If getting to medical school was the way there, then she would do it.

"It's alright, AJ, I'm still here. Baby, it's okay, come on, shhh." She coos, scooping up the whimpering infant from her cot and cuddling her.

When AJ was born, she'd been so scared she'd lose her friends, something that unfortunately came true to an extent. Kitty was a lifeline and had gone above and beyond to support her, between visiting her in the hospital during her pregnancy and showing up until she went home with AJ. Others hadn't been as kind.

Some had stopped talking to her, while others had joined in on the bullying, but a few had stayed by her. Like Ella, who was in the year above her and also happened to have a baby. Things were different for her; she had supportive parents who looked after Chloe, while her boyfriend of three years, Benny, had moved in with them. He was a year older and was training as an electrician, planning to marry Ella when they were old enough and had already got her a ring, which the other girls fawned over.

Nevertheless, she was sympathetic towards Jac, taking her under her wing almost. She'd reminded her that they lived in a shitty area where teen pregnancy was all too common. She wasn't even the only girl who'd gotten pregnant that year; she was just one of two who had kept their babies. She also reminded her that whether or not she got an abortion was irrelevant, and the same people who were harassing her for not getting an abortion were also taunting Rochelle for getting one.

Sophie Smith on the other hand had been a proper nightmare, throwing a chair at her stomach and telling Jac she hoped she and her baby died in childbirth. This had earned Sophie a broken nose courtesy of Kitty and a two-day exclusion, because after weeks of bullying trying to actively harm her had been the last straw. Ironically, Sophie's mother had her at nineteen and was horrified. Sophie had been forced to apologize but the damage was done. A friendship ended, enemies made. Thankfully no secrets were spilled because Jac held everyone bar Kitty at arm's length. Sometimes over skepticism was a good thing.

"I can't believe it's your first Christmas already. It feels like I blinked and now you're so big and even cuter!" She says, pulling faces at the baby and tickling her.

It's starting to feel less weird now, being a fourteen with a baby. She still has her doubts about her ability to care for this child and her acceptance of her circumstances has hit a brick wall, but she's finding some happiness in the baby who squeals excitedly whenever she walks in the room. She's telling herself that her daughter must like her if she's so clingy, and that her the feelings of disgust she feels when she looks in the mirror will disappear soon.

The highs are more frequent now but the lows still leave her feeling out of control and terrified. Her baby might be the most important thing to her but her thoughts of not being in control of her own body, cast blame of the green-eyed infant, who kicks and screams as she plays with her. It fills her with guilt she can't wash away. The therapist tells her it's expected and tries to reassure her. Tries to make her see reason, that she can love her baby and still resent the circumstances that brought her here. It's alright to feel overwhelmed when she has a crying baby relying on her for sustanance and an English essay she should've finished days ago.

Jac fights with her thoughts all the time. It's the little things like how she looks at AJ and cries at times. Not because she doesn't love her because she can't stop thinking about how her father hurt her. She's been able to separate the two in her mind but some days the demands of having a baby leave her on edge. The anxiety about when she'll cry next mixes with the anxieties that he'll come after them, try and claim he deserves rights to see Artemis. She has nightmares that she'll be forced to turn up to the prison, AJ in hand so he can see her. No one has anwsers on what will happen if he suddenly wants to see his daughter and that fills her with dread. It's an uphill battle coping with her new normal, but she's determined to win and be the mother she wished she'd had.

"Let's get you changed, I never say this but today's going to be a good day. I'm gonna take so many pictures of you. I know you won't remember it, but I'm gonna make sure you have so much fun. We've got to be quiet though; it's only half five, and you're hungry, aren't you?"

This was the closest she'd had to normality in years, ironic because most fourteen-year-old girls didn't have babies. Still, she'd spent over a year in the same house, with no bailiffs, no junkies passed out on the sofa, and no mother telling her she was her biggest regret. Just a foster carer who was almost nice, treated her like a person, and was the only person beside her best friend who actually thought she could be a decent mother.

Sure, she didn't like how Mrs. Whitman would insist on calling her Jacqueline, but if things kept up, she was going to get to keep her baby, and Mrs. Whitman had continually praised her parenting skills to social workers. For a girl who'd never had any semblance of a childhood, getting to start over with her own child meant a lot.

"Hey, here's the teddy," she says, kissing her daughter's face and placing the stuffed bear in her chubby hands. Jac laughs when Artemis looks at the toy curiously, first attempting to eat the stuffed animal, but when she recognises the scent of her mother on it, she clutches it tightly and gurgles happily.

"I'm glad you like it. That used to be mine. My Daddy gave it to me, before he died. He got sober for a while, and it was really nice having him just be my Dad. But he died not too long after. Sometimes I miss him. He wasn't a good Dad most of the time, but I think if he'd lived, he might have changed. Maybe we'd fight, but he could have almost loved me."

Her wistful tone is lost on the infant who abandons the toy and crawls towards her mother, demanding affection and attention. Though she hadn't wanted to admit it, Jac had worried that ger daughter might prefer Mrs Whitman to her, convinced that the hours she spent at school would undo months of bonding. No one could convince her otherwise and it took her teething baby constantly crawling to her for comfort to convince her that Artemis didn't feel abandoned. Only then could she enjoy the few hours of being a regular teenager school offfered, reassured she wasn't becoming who she hated.

"It's okay, though. I have you. And I love you so much, Artemis. You are never going to feel like I do. I'm never going to let you down." She whisphers to her daughter who looks at her lip quivering, as she begins to fuss.

"Oh okay, I'll feed you. Calm down chubs; can't even be sentimental around you."

Things were almost better now. He'd been sentenced and so she didn't have to think about him for the time being. It was better said than done because she was still plagued by the occasional nightmare. While his last minute decision to change his plea to guilty, had knocked days of the trial but his sentence also. She had to accept that he'd be out before AJ would get near adulthood. It angered her because ten years wouldn't be enough for what he did. She'd lived longer than he'd be in prison. It wasn't fair.

She wasn't going to dwell on it. It made her angry, and now that she was trying to be more mature because of her child, she was determined to keep her anger in check - at least most of the time. At the moment, she had more important things to do anyway, people to prove wrong.

This included her maths teacher, who'd made her feel stupid after she insisted on Jac stopping her plans to take three GCSEs early. She'd even encouraged Jac to drop out, saying it was a wasted potential, but she chose to keep the baby and had to be responsible now. She could go back and do her GCSEs in her twenties.

Jac had argued furiously with her. She insisted that if she was going to make something of her life, in spite of being a teenage mother, she couldn't quit at the last hurdle. Sure enough, she'd sat her mocks with the year elevens and had got no less than an A in any exam, putting her on track to do well in the real thing.

None of that mattered right now. She knew she would do well when it came to it, and she was focused on her baby. The Christmas break meant more time at home with AJ than her current three-day school week allowed. Even with the advantage of only attending on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, she would be preoccupied with schoolwork on the days in between.

She'd made a habit of getting up at four rather than her usual six so she could fit in some studying before AJ awoke. She'd then spend AJ's morning nap time finishing off work for the day, and after feeding her lunch, would head off to drop off her assignments on the fifteen minute walk to her school. Sometimes with AJ fast asleep in the baby carrier before returning to the house, where she'd focus on her baby for the rest of the day. Being more intelligent than people have her credit for, she'd finish the week's work by Wednesday, and this would spend Thursday's revising and playing with her daughter. It was hard but it was the life she choose, she'd been offered a place at a specialised centre for young Mum's but rejected it. It had meant falling below the minimum GCSE requirements for medical school and so this was her path.

"I'm making you a bottle baby. Look, it's milk! I'm sorry I had to leave you in the high chair so I can make it. I should just hold you all the time shouldn't I? Don't look so sad, you've eaten more than me today."

Jac can't help but laugh when she looks over her shoulder, seeing her pouting and squirming, as she eat the last of her breakfast, making a mess in the process.

Motherhood had only started to get easier once she'd reluctantly accepted that she didn't have to be perfect. That it was okay to not know, or to do things the "normal way," and that as long as AJ was getting her basic needs met and she was loved, it was okay. She'd almost run herself into the ground in the first weeks of her life, insisting on exclusively breastfeeding, which might have worked out if she'd been a bit older or had a baby in less traumatic circumstances.

She hadn't, and six weeks postpartum she'd accepted that using formula didn't make her a bad mother. That the social worker wouldn't judge her because despite the touted benefits of breastfeeding, they acknowledged that she was still a child, a traumatized child at that. She'd accepted that a fed baby with a happy mother was the most important thing.

She had felt like a terrible mother and had cried when she'd made the first bottle of baby formula, but now over five months later, she laughed about it. Her daughter was happy and healthy, and ahead on most of her milestones. Formula meant Mrs. Whitman could help her out more, and she had gotten the occasional lie in that stopped her mental health from completely plummeting off the cliff.

It didn't matter if she only breastfed twice a day, then now solely at night. It didn't matter that by the time AJ hit seven months next week, she'd be on formula only. It was the right decision for Jac, and it didn't need justification. She was her baby, and she knew what was best for the pair of them. Artemis would be fine; she was on solid food anyway, and Jac didn't appreciate being bitten.

It didn't matter whether or not she'd had a c- section and if she could go back, she might not have fought against being cut open as much. She can't help but wonder if the birth would have been less traumatic if she'd had one.

Now that she's got some perspective she's not blaming herself as much for AJ's quiet entry into the world, because she had a complicated pregnancy and things always had a chance of going wrong. Yes, things might have been different she'd agreed to a c-section on admission rather than in an emergency or if she hit thirty-seven weeks, but AJ is fine and the forceps did the job fine. It didn't make her any more of a mother because she'd tried a so called natural birth and needing forceps didn't make her a failure. She's a child so her body was barely able to cope growing a small human, childbirth was just too much. And that's okay. The intervention meant neither of them died in June. It's taken time to accept it and stop holding herself to an impossible standard but she's there now. Almost seven months into motherhood she's slowly finding confidence and trusting she knows best.

"I'm so proud of you, AJ." Jac says, kissing the infant in excitement. Watching her learn and grow is almost therapeutic. A sign that things will get better. "You're going to be walking before I know it. Come on, let's play, and I'll read you a story; then it's nap time."

"Merry Christmas Jacqueline."

"Oh Merry Christmas, Mrs. Whitman. Did we wake you up?" She asks, walking over with a smiley AJ on her hip.

"No you didn't love. Have you mannaged get her to use the sippy cup yet?" She asks making small talk.

"Yeah, she finally figured out she can drink from it. I gave her about half a bottle, fed her some porridge, and gave her a little water too. I didn't think it'd be this easy to wean her, but I guess she loves to eat."

"I think she does. Like you always say, she's a cute little gremlin. When are you going to give her the present you made? Watch out thinks she's eyeing your breakfast." She asks, laughing as AJ tries to steal Jac's muffin.

"Now actually. I hope she likes it."

"Jacqueline, she's a baby. You're her Mum and you've knitted her a bunny she's going to love it. You've got to stop worrying her hating you, she won't. Now go enjoy your first Christmas with her. I'm going to put the turkey in the oven, don't worry bout helping."

"Alright then, I will. Come on chubs, I've got a surprise for you!"