I was so sick. So, I went to the health clinic to find out what was wrong. I remember a large, round man walking in the room, wiping the sweat off his brow, holding a clipboard. I sat there alone on the chair, next to the door, waiting for my diagnosis. He looked at his paper and without looking at me, said, “it appears you’re pregnant. Are you going to keep it?” I was very confused at this information and this question. Maybe shocked was a better word. The room suddenly seemed so smalI. I was speechless. He stood there impatiently looking at his paper and then, realizing I wasn’t answering, looked at me and said, “well? Do you plan to keep it or not?”
I said, “yes. Yes, I plan to.” He scribbled something on his paper, tore it off, handed it to me, murmured something and walked out, letting the door slam behind him.
I sat there. Sick. Confused. Excited. Torn. Shocked.
I was pregnant.
|my journal 6/28/95|
Then I did what I usually do. I kept silent. I didn’t tell anyone for a long time. Even when I would begin to share, it would be slow and carefully guarded, for my own protection. There would be no celebratory announcement. I was a young, unmarried college student. This was 1995. There was shame and failure preceded with guilt, and the knowing... that my life was about to jump onto a different track. Who could see the path it would take? It probably looked like a derail to most. Even I knew it would be hard. But pregnancy takes time. God is so sweet to give nine long months to grow us. I grew. Everyone grew.
And what seemed like some of the hardest, most confusing times in my life, taught me more about Perseverance and Commitment and Love and Grace- than I ever knew I’d need to know. What may have seemed like a tragic turn of events to many for my life, was actually a beautiful turn to who we would each become, eventually.
It would never be easy...God showed me that from the beginning. I went on to make a million mistakes. But I never gave up hope. Somehow, I held on, or was held.
This is my story.