Southern Belles, a Novel About Love, Purpose & Second Chances (9781310340970) (11 page)

“Oh good gravy CeCe.” I stepped back, taking
the box from her. “Let’s go.”

We were back in the dorm room fifteen
minutes later. I took the test and started towards the
bathroom.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” CeCe
asked.

“Not unless you want to hold the stick.” I
said, closing the door behind me.

“Okay, that’s all you. I’ll be right here
waiting—right outside the door if you need me.”

I sat down and took the test out of the
package. I removed the cap on the end of the stick and said a
prayer. I pleaded to God to please let me not be pregnant. I asked
him for forgiveness for doing something I now knew that I shouldn’t
have done with Skylar. I hoped he heard me and would have mercy on
me. I had a plan for everything but being pregnant at 18 was not
part of it. I put the stick down and peed. I finished and placed
the cap back on over the tester part. I flushed the toilet and put
the test on the back of the toilet; I didn’t want to see anything
it had to show me yet. I opened the door and was suddenly
face-to-face with CeCe.

“What’d it say?” She asked grimacing.

“I don’t know; I haven’t looked at it
yet.”

“Char, you have to read it.”

“I don’t think I can. I’m afraid.” I said,
starting to tear up.

“The result won’t change; whatever it is.”
She said carefully. “What are you going to do if you’re
pregnant?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t let myself think
about that.”

“Would you keep the baby?

“Of course I would. I don’t want to be a
mother now. But if I am—I don’t want anyone else to have my
baby.”

“Oh.” CeCe said softly. “What about
school?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know what I’ll do. I
guess I didn’t think about it.”

“What about Skylar?”

“What about him? I have no way to get a hold
of him. And obviously, he doesn’t care enough to call and see how
I’m doing. Or maybe call and see if he got me, I don’t know,
pregnant.” I said starting to feel the hurt and anger build up
again.

“Do you want me to read the results?” CeCe
asked gently, with her arm on my back.

“Yes. No. Wait.” I said as I took a deep
breath in. “Yes.”

CeCe walked into the bathroom and picked up
the stick. She paused a moment before turning around. I kept my
eyes closed and started to cry harder. I didn’t want to see her
face because I knew I’d be able to tell the results by looking at
her and I could barely breathe thinking what might happen next.

“Char, it’s positive.”

Chapter 7: A Clearer Picture

The
next few weeks were a blur. I was still in shock and didn’t know
what I was going to do. I wanted to become a writer more than
anything. Now, I didn’t know if that would ever happen. I thought
about Trudy and how she got pregnant and stuck, permanently, in St.
Marys. I didn’t know how I’d tell my parents—or even when I’d work
up the courage to tell them. They loved me so much and believed in
me. I didn’t want to embarrass them or let them down. I felt like
such a failure. I always listened to them and did the right thing.
I couldn’t imagine telling them the whole story. It was starting to
turn into a Jerry Springer episode titled ‘where’s the daddy’. I
felt like an idiot. And other than CeCe I was alone in this. I
hadn’t told Richie either and knew I needed to tell him next. I
figured that he would help me tell our parents at least.

I continued to attend classes, sick and
pale. My appetite got a little better and I started eating
everything in sight. I craved the craziest foods like; applesauce,
ranch dressing and chicken…all together. CeCe would bring me large
jars of applesauce after her classes. She persuaded me to go to the
campus clinic even though I was afraid they would call my parents
if they found out I were pregnant. CeCe reassured me they couldn’t
do that because of privacy laws—something she knew of because of
her parent’s conversations about their cases around the home. My
parents were going to find out eventually; I just didn’t know how
to tell them yet and didn’t want them hearing from someone else. At
the clinic, I met with a young-looking female doctor. I had to pee
in a cup and sit through my first pelvic exam—very uncomfortable.
She was very nice though and asked me if I had told my parents yet.
I confided that I hadn’t and that I wasn’t sure how to tell them.
She explained that I had options: parenting the baby, adopting the
baby or aborting the pregnancy. I heard her but my mind was
overwhelmed and it started to drift. I didn’t know how I was going
to raise a baby on my own. I didn’t have a job. My parents and
scholarships supported me right now. How was I going to pay for
diapers and formula? Where was I going to get money to pay for the
baby’s clothing, let alone to have the baby? For a second the idea
of abortion popped into my head. No one would know, except CeCe and
me. I could continue school. But this thing—this baby was growing
inside of me getting bigger every day. I didn’t know how to be a
mother and I surely did not want to become one at 18 but this was a
part of me and I had already made enough mistakes. I didn’t want to
make any more that I would regret for a lifetime.

As I drifted back to the conversation I
heard the doctor say, “Go ahead and lie back. This may feel a
little cold.” She pulled out a clear-looking squirt bottle with a
light blue gel inside. I pulled up my shirt and she squirted a
lemon-sized amount of gel on my lower stomach. It was cold. She
pulled out a small scanner-looking instrument and placed it on my
stomach, on top of the gel. She pulled the over-head monitor closer
to her and I and began to rub the scanner over my belly. The
screen, which looked like a black and white fuzzy television
station, with no reception, showed a circular black mass on it.
Inside the circle was a tiny, round-oval shape.

“Here we go. Here is your baby, she pointed.
This is the head and she has a nice little spine right there.” The
doctor said smiling.

“It’s a she?” I asked curiously.

“Well, actually, the baby’s too small to
identify the gender yet. You usually can’t tell that until you are
about 16-20 weeks along.” She said as she continued to scan this
tiny person.

“Here’s the beginning of her feet and her
arm buds.” She said, pointing to two separate circles on the
screen.

That was my baby. I had seen my baby for the
first time. It was real and growing. I couldn’t help but cry. I was
so scared about how I would tell my parents; how I’d raise a baby
on my own and how I’d finish school. But at that moment, I was so
overcome with emotion. I couldn’t explain it except for maybe
unconditional love. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but
somehow, some way, I was going to be a mom to this little person
wiggling around in my belly. I smiled and placed a hand near my
stomach.

“It looks like your due date is June
seventh.” The doctor said as she pulled out some tissue paper to
wipe the gel off my belly.

“Everything looks fine but you need to make
a decision soon. Whatever you do, you will need the support of
family. Here is a picture of the ultrasound that you can take with
you. Also, if you decide to keep the baby, you will need to set up
an appointment to meet with an OBGYN—a doctor who specializes in
monitoring you and your baby’s health. Your nausea is normal but
hopefully will subside by the end of the first trimester. You’ll
want to take a prenatal vitamin, daily, for you and your baby’s
health. Those are over-the-counter and you should get those right
away no matter what you decide to do. And these will help with the
nausea you’re feeling.” She said handing me a small bottle of
pills.

As I walked out of the exam room to the
lobby I spotted CeCe flipping through a magazine. She hadn’t
noticed I had stepped out yet. I came over and tapped her on the
shoulder and she jumped up.

“So?” She asked inquisitively.

“So, it went as best as it could. I have a
picture too.” I whispered to her.

“You have to show me.”

“I will—back at the room. She gave me some
pills for the nausea and said everything looked good.” I quietly
told her as we walked out the door.

Back in our dorm room, we sat quietly
starring at mini me.

“It looks like a tadpole.” CeCe said,
pointing at the picture.

“Are you calling my baby a frog?”

“Yes, I’m calling your baby a frog.” CeCe
said sarcastically. “No, I’m not calling him a frog.”

Chapter 8: Thanksgiving with The
Buchanan’s

I was
now 12 weeks pregnant and nearing the end of my first trimester. I
found out from, Tania, one of the social workers at the campus
health clinic, that I could apply for Medicaid since I was a single
mother with no income of my own. She helped me apply and reassured
me that the insurance would not notify my parents of any of my
healthcare appointments. She also helped me identify an OBGYN that
would take my Medicaid. I was thankful for her help. I had no idea
where to start but she helped me figure out a plan and provided me
with encouragement, laughter, and the resources I needed to start
preparing for my baby. By this time I had already seen the OBGYN
once and had lost nine pounds, which he said was normal in the
first trimester because of all the nausea making it difficult to
eat and keep food down. My boobs were getting bigger which I was
pretty happy about since I’d always been tiny and my brothers
teased me calling me flat Char.

I still hadn’t told my parents or Richie or
anyone else. We were leaving for home later and I was starting to
panic all over again thinking about how I was going to tell them.
It would be a long car ride home contemplating what I would say. I
was scared to tell my dad. I knew he would be mad. I was
embarrassed to tell my parents for fear of disappointing them. They
worked hard to send us to school and now I had wasted their money.
I didn’t think I could keep going to school or at least stay in the
dorm with a baby. And I couldn’t imagine raising the baby six hours
away from home, without their help and guidance, either. I knew
nothing about raising a baby. I was the baby in my family.

“So, what are you going to say to them?”
CeCe asked as she drove by the late sun-lit soybean fields.

“I don’t know yet. I’ve been rehearsing the
things I’d say to them over and over again in my mind but nothing
seems to come out right. No matter what I say, they’re going to be
mad. I’ve always been the good girl and I don’t even know how I can
face them.”

“Do you want me to tell them that some
famous Hollywood celebrity knocked you up?”

“CeCe!”

“I was just kidding; unless you want me
to.”

“CeCe!”

“Okay, Okay. I won’t say a word; unless you
want me to.”

“Thanks Ce. I’ll manage it, I guess.”

Pulling into my driveway that night I could
feel my heart start to race but not the kind of race that made you
feel woozy like Skylar had that night. The kind of racing feeling
that makes you feel suddenly sick and scared to death. My mother
was the first person I saw running out to the front porch. I hadn’t
seen her since they dropped us off that first day of college. I
tried to keep it cool on the phone so she didn’t pick up on
anything. I was so happy to see her face. I needed my mom now more
than ever but I still couldn’t figure out what I would say to her.
I was hoping to tell Richie first so he could help me tell our
parents as he always had a way of deflecting stressful
situations.

“Charlotte Renee, I’ve missed you so much!”
My mother said loudly as she slapped a big kiss on my cheek and
hugged me tightly.

“Come here CeCe. I need a big kiss before
you leave. I know your parents are dying to see you.” My mother
said opening her arms to embrace CeCe too.

“Are you talking about my parents?” CeCe
said jokingly.

“Okay, you smarty pants! I’ve seen your
mother and your father at church and she’s driving your dad nuts. I
didn’t say that though. Your dad told Richard and I that when she
went to congratulate Father John on a good mass last Sunday. She
misses you CeCe—more than you know.” My mother said, squeezing
her.

Smiling smugly, CeCe walked in with me and
my mother. We were quickly welcomed by my grandmothers and Richie
as they plummeted towards us at breakneck speed.

“Give CeCe some love—she’s got to get home
before Bev drives over here.” My mother announced.

I stood by the sidelines as my Grandma Rose
and Richie tackled CeCe with hugs. Grandma Evi came over by me and
smiled, remaining quiet. I hugged her and immediately felt a sweet
warmth fill my heart. With no words left to say, because of the
effects of her dementia, her presence spoke highly about the woman
she was—the kind and nurturing mother and grandmother I grew up
knowing and missed. She finished high school but never went on to
college despite being Valedictorian of her class. My mother and
Grandma Rose said that a girl who finished high school then, was
very successful. Many women did not finish high school back then
and rarely did any of them go to college. When I was small I loved
to cuddle up with my Evi, as I called her, to listen to her
stories. She had the most fantastic imagination that took you to a
place you’d never read about and make you wish you never left. She
was an avid reader and a lover of knowledge. Her stories were new
and exciting. They painted a vividness brighter than any movie I’d
ever seen. Like my mother, she taught us that kindness was the best
legacy one could leave in this lifetime. She knew what grace was
and exuded it in the face of adversity. She laughed when things got
tough and kept going. As I hugged her I silently prayed for some of
her courage to help me through these next few days. When I pulled
away she smiled and giggled, before finding a seat at the kitchen
table.