Expectations

Expectations
I am expecting a baby boy in November. I am seven months pregnant and I live in fear every day. How can an eighteen year old girl in college care for a young boy and still work forty hours at the local diner. I also have another fifteen credit hours at school. I want my son to have the best. I fear he won’t be able to enjoy the best in life because his no good father left me as soon as he heard “I am pregnant”. He was quick to judge. I immediately became a whore, and the child was surely not his. I was the faithful girlfriend I never cheated. How could that bastard leave me alone in the dark? I have a bun in the oven, he was the baker. I am now left alone without any guidance. My mother is dead and my father is in jail. No living extended family whatsoever, I am seriously alone. What can a girl do on her own? My unborn son Leon moves frequently, as if he is uncomfortable. Like I am not the mother he wants or deserves. I fight this war in my mind that maybe I should just run in fear, or give him away. How can I? Leon has been inside of me for months. He’s big, I’m sure he’s beautiful. Oh, how I just wish I could give him everything. I have nothing to give… will my love for him be enough? Oh Jesus, please help me. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.
It is obvious that I am pregnant. I get stared at in the Bengal’s Lair… like a freak on display. I hear the whispers of how young I look, and the guys laugh automatically assuming that I must be some type of cheap whore. How is this fair? Society judges me before it even thinks to ask questions. They don’t like young mothers to be, it is so obvious. I have a never ending hunger all the time. I swear that Leon will be born at fifteen pounds. He eats like an elephant; I’ve gained over forty pounds since his conception. He’s certainly a healthy boy. I never smoked, drank, or did anything to his determent. I want to give him every advantage I can. After his birth, I know I will only be able to supply him with the bare minimum. God, I love this child so much. It is odd to say but with every passing week I seem to love myself less and him more. I place him as first priority, I must always come second. I adore this child. He is my life-force. Oh, I wish I weren’t alone, I wish I could give him the world. A baby boy raised by a child… I am definitely not ready to raise a little boy. I hate this pessimism; I wish I could think positively. I can’t my mind won’t let me. I should have listened in school. I should have stayed abstinent until marriage. What am I saying? The past is in the past, I am here now with a child in me. Oh! He moved again, that one hurt… he kicked my rib hard.
Mid October, I’m due in three weeks. I’m still working thirty hours but my back and feet hurt at all times. When I shower the warm water stimulates the mammary and I shoot towards the wall. I’ve promised to myself that I will raise this child. I love him, as though he is the only man in my life. I want to protect him, hold him. I want to save him, keep him from danger. I want to watch him grow, see his first steps, hear his first words, and walk him to the bus on his first day of school. I have high expectations for him. I want Leon to have everything I didn’t. The only thing I can’t give him is a father. I hope he will end up fine being raised by only me; I know that no man wants to raise another’s child. I’m doomed to be alone, but yet I know Leon will give me that love. The love I need to move on. I won’t give up. Gosh, one moment… I don’t feel that well… I’m back, sorry I had to go to the rest room. It seems like my stomach has a different agenda than I do.
Halloween, I run out to Irving for some coffee cakes (Leon gives me the oddest cravings). I see little kids in their costumes, as I walk by their mothers… they give me a look of shame. I brush it off. I’ve learned to deal with the stigma associated with my pregnancy. I smile at the woman and say “Hello”. I walk into Irving. Sue greets me with that smile as she always has. She asks how I’m doing and I reply promptly. She’s a good woman; she’s the only woman who actually asks how my baby is doing. I walk to the coffee cakes and I feel something odd. I have to go to the bathroom! I get into the restroom and remove my lower clothes, and sit on the toilette. I feel a sharp pain in my lower area… OH MY GOD!!! I think my water just broke. I yell loud! I yell for Sue! She comes to the door and knocks. I yell that my water just broke and Sue tells me to stay calm. I sit in the rest room with a puddle of water around me. I feel these powerful contractions… Oh! They hurt. I feel like something has a knife and is cutting me inside out. I hear sirens. Sue must have called the ambulance. I hear the wheels of the gurney and a man’s voice asks loudly “Where is she?”. Sue replies aggressively “In the restroom!”. The door slams open, I am in the corner legs spread breathing heavily. The man quickly helps me onto the gurney, and we fly to the hospital. I never expected to have a Halloween baby. Even though I am in pain, I refuse the epidural and oddly I am somewhat excited.
Finally, I will be able to see my boy. For the next three hours I push and the doctor pulls. I have a team of people around me all in teal. They encourage me. They tell me to push, while a nurse holds my hand. I feel comfortable, supported. At least Leon will be born in a positive environment. One last push, now I hear the cries of my son. The doctor reassures me that it’s a boy. I begin to cry hysterically. The doctor cuts the umbilical cord, and hands Leon to a nurse. She cleans him up and wraps him in a blue towel, and places the little blue hat on his head. I ask to hold him, and they hand him over. I look into his eyes, and he looks up at me with these big dark-blue beauties. My son…my son! He looks like his father already, yet he has this glow his father didn’t. I swear this child is my angel. I praise Jesus for a healthy fat child. I was right, he’s huge! Nine pounds! The doctor tells his review of the labor, he tells me that I did great. His nurse then asks me what I want my son’s name to be. I reply Leon-Raphael Levesque. I look down and he’s asleep, he barely even cried. I feel exhilarated, like a burden has been lifted. I hold Leon for hours, as he sleeps in my arms. I sing to him, I constantly kiss him on his little head. This boy is so beautiful. I love this feeling of being a “mother”, I feel a pride that comes with strength. The light has been rekindled within my soul. I vow to give this boy everything as I already had. I look forward to taking him back to my apartment. I have a little room set up for him there.
I’ve been home for months now, its June and Leon is seven months old. Luckily I discovered a program which cares for him when I work. I am able to attend school and work. His presence has made me feel enlightened. I get support from the Government, and I attend a weekly single-mothers seminar in Caribou. I’ve met other women like me. I don’t feel as abandoned as I did when I was pregnant. I have support coming in from all sides of me. I’ve made new friends. I’m currently dating a good man who loves the fact that I can care for a child and still go to school and work. Even though I am constantly exhausted, the flame in my soul never dims. I love life to much. I love my son so much more. I am grateful to God for giving me a blessing is disguise. I am empowered to move on to bigger and better things. My second year of college is done. I am now a CNA and work at the local retirement home. Two more years and I can go work at the hospital. My life is turning around, and I know I will be able to give Leon everything he deserves. I love being able to feel happy. I love having the capacity to love and be loved. I look back at my pregnancy… it was such a learning experience. I was depressed all the time, I cried constantly but I held on. I am so grateful for that. Even at my weakest I was able to be strong not only for myself but for my unborn son. I know I am lucky, not all single women can raise a child under my circumstance. I have a deeper respect for single mothers now, and I’ve grown so much in the last year. I can’t believe I actually succeeded. Life handed me a basket of lemons, and I decided to open up a lemonade stand. Thank you God… Thank you for everything.