Finally a child is born

Spring is finally here. The flowers had started to bloom again and I loved having the windows open and smelling the freshly cut grass. I was now 5 months along in my pregnancy and getting anxious about giving birth. It was 1975 and there were no such things as ultrasounds to let you know the sex of your baby. I remember sitting on the front porch praying that God would bless me with a "little girl". Even at 5 months into this pregnancy we were still totally unprepared for the birth of this child. We still had not purchased a thing for this child. No bottles, no "cloth" diapers, no clothes, no nothing. I had acquired a crib and mattress but that was about it. I spent many hours standing over that crib during the last 5 months. Staring down at the little mattress. Wondering if things would change any after our baby was born. And what would I do if it didn't. Would he hurt our baby too or was that kind of behavior just towards me. All I knew was either way it was going to be up to me to make sure our baby was safe, fed and clothed. I knew a baby shower was out of the question. I had no friends and my relationship with him had alienated me from all of my family. It was up to God now to make sure me and our baby were taken care of.

April and May seemed to go by so slowly. Maybe because the same things happened week after week. He would work Monday through Friday. I would clean and keep the yard work done. Friday would roll around and his partying would start. He would usually leave home around 7pm after having eaten dinner and taken a shower. Your guess was as good as mine as to when I would see him again. Whenever it was, I knew there were some questions I dare not ask. Such as "Where have you been?, Who were you with?, I'm afraid by myself when you're not here, Don't you love us anymore?" All of these questions or any others even remotely similar were reason for him to fly off in anger towards me. It also seemed the more I would coward away from him the more aggressive he would become. Maybe when I would curl up in a ball on the floor or on the couch he thought I wasn't listening to him and he wanted to make sure I heard him. So he would push me or hit me when actually all I was doing was trying to make sure this little baby I was carrying made it into this world safely. As mid May rolled around he found himself unemployed again. Fired this time. Probably for not showing up or showing up high. I had no idea why I just knew that we were back to square one again. So we packed up our clothes, the few dishes we had, the crib and our dog and back to North Carolina we went.

This time we rented a small mobile home just ten or so miles outside of town.. This put me about 20 or so miles away from where my mom lived and about 35 minutes away from his parents. I remember hoping that this move would change things for us. Maybe he would stop the partying and the abuse. We were getting closer and closer to our due date for our baby and I was ready for things to calm down some. For the first couple of weeks things were great. He came home on time and for the most part and he would spend "some" time with me on the weekends. However I guess old habits die hard because by mid June he was back to the same old thing. We had no car so he always used the excuse that he couldn't find a ride home and that was why he was always so late getting home. We had no phone either so he couldn't call me and let me know when he might be home either so the "waiting" game continued. My mom had helped me find an OB/GYN just over the Virginia line that would give me and our baby medical care based on our income. Of course we had no way of ever getting me there to see him so I counted on my mom to take me to my appointments. The Dr. had predicted that I was due sometime around the tenth of July so by the 20th I was beginning to think this baby was never going to be born. During my last visit to see him he agreed to induce labor on Tuesday, the 29th of July if I had not gone into labor by then. As it turned out that was the case, so on the 29th of July my mom came to get me and off we went to have a baby. Of course we couldn't find him anywhere so we just put the word out that we were headed to Virginia to give birth hoping that he would get the message and would come as soon as he could get there.

I had no idea what "birthing babies" was like but I was only hours away from finding out. The Dr. came in to examine me and started an IV with the medicine in it that would induce labor. The first couple of hours were a breeze. I remember telling my mom "this isn't so bad, you guys made giving birth sound horrible, I can do this, it's not so bad, no problem, I have everything under control". Then it happened! My first REAL CONTRACTIONS! Oh my God I thought. Now this is not what I bargained for. This is going to kill me. Mind you that natural child birth with no medication such as epidurals was the only was there was to give birth in 1975. And I wasn't liking it! At all! The next thing I remember telling my mom was "I don't want to do this". She just looked at me with that look she had and said to me "well, it's a little too late for that don't you think?" From the look on her face I could tell she had that silent sarcastic snicker going on. As if I was getting what I deserved for getting pregnant at 16. "Push, push" Dr. Walker said. "Come on. One or two more good pushes and we should have a baby". It seemed like forever, then it happened. I heard a baby cry. My baby. It was here. Dr. Walker leaned over to me and said. "It's a girl, you have a beautiful baby girl! Would you like to hold her?" Ahhh.....The moment I had waited so long for. I reached out my arms and as he handed her to me I remember thinking "Thank you Lord, she is beautiful, she's perfect". My heart melted in that very moment as I held her for the first time. I knew immediately that for the rest of my life I would have someone to love that would love me too. This was the most wonderful day of my life. I just wished her father had been there. Shortly after giving birth I was taken to my room where I was supposed to spend the next couple of days. Several hours later, just after dark he walked into my room. "It's a girl" I said. "She is in the nursery and she is absolutely beautiful." Over the past 9 months I had thought of many names I wanted to name her but before I could get a word out he said " We're naming her Lisa". I agreed. I wasn't about to argue with him. It made no difference to me what her name was. I was too tired and plenty sore so if Lisa is what you want that is fine with me. I didn't care what "you" called her I called her "MINE"!!!!!!! She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. Seven pounds four ounces and 21 inches of pure wonder. I couldn't believe she was mine and I promised her that very day I would spend the rest of my life loving her and doing my best to protect her from all the ugly things I have discovered in this world.

Needless to say we didn't stay in the hospital the average three days. By the following afternoon we were headed home. Him, me and baby makes three. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Or my hands. I held her every minute of every day. I was so afraid something terrible would happen to her if I let her go for even one minute. Even though I had her little crib ready for her when she got home, she never made it in there. When she would sleep I would lay down in my bed and she would lay across my chest. I knew if I had her there I would never run the risk of her disappearing or getting hurt because you would have to get past me first. Wow, I had no idea you could love someone so much! She was perfect. And I needed her. All the hours I spent alone without him there were now filled with loving her. She was a good baby, so precious and so small. She needed me and I needed her. It was perfect. I believe he loved her too but it seemed he wasn't around much more than he was before she was born. His party days didn't slow down any just because she was there. I must say now that I am a grandma, that having a baby at sixteen is nothing more than a child having a child. Oh yes, I thought I was all grown up and in many ways I guess I was. But at sixteen I was still a child myself. I want you to know that I have never had any regrets about having my daughter at such a young age. But it did force me to grow up faster than I believe God had intended. Teen girls raising children of their own is much harder than it appears. We all know that little girls dream about their wedding day all of their lives. And during your elementary school years we dream about junior and senior proms, dating, cheering at footballs games and graduation. It can be lonely at age 50 when all of your friends are reminiscing about their high school years and you have no memories to share. I was fortunate that when my daughter was in high school and college she shared these special events with me as if they were somehow my special day too. Every mother is not that fortunate. "Another lesson better left unlearned"