My Story: Part 4

I guess I just have to get this out. This is going to be the last part, so it's pretty long.

When I found out I was pregnant, I thought my life was over. I had always wanted a large family and I had always wanted to start young, but I NEVER thought in a million years this was how it would start. I was terrified. When I found out, I called Richie and cried and cried. A friend of mine brought me up to his house so we could talk face to face. He held me while I cried and we told each other that we would get through this. We had no idea how, but we were gonna get through this.

I had no idea how I was gonna break the news to my mom, but it turns out I didn't have too. I was staying at my Pastor's house for the weekend and while I was babysitting their kids, I went online to look up the results of a few pregnancy tests. Because I was still in shock and needed the affirmation. When Mrs. B got home, she saw the websites I had been on and asked me about them. I tried to lie at first, and say that I had been looking it up for a friend...but she saw right through me. And there it was. My secret was exposed to the family I had always tried hardest to impress.

After church the next day, we broke the news to my mother. And I laughed at her as she cried. Because my heart was so callous, and I only cared about myself and how I was feeling. I was pregnant by the guy I had supposedly stopped seeing three months ago. And I didn't care how this made her feel. I only cared about me.

And of course, after that, everything changed. It became next to impossible to see Richie, although we tried our hardest. Richie ended up leaving BC, and I wanted so much to follow him. I had giving up on pleasing my pastor and his family. I still wanted them to love me, but I was so caught up in my own heartache and rebellion that I thought it was no longer worth my time. They would never be able to forgive me for this. And I didn't care. I just wanted to be with Richie and get away from all of them and pretend that it was all a bad dream.

My mom and I never fought so much in all the years of us being at each others throats. I felt so ostracized. I felt so hated. I felt like no one in my family even wanted to look at me. She took away all of my privileges. She took away my books. She even took my door off the hinges. I hated her for it. I was a rebellious, pregnant, teenage girl who wanted someone to love her. And I hated myself. And felt like the only person who would love me was Richie. He fought to see me, he kept calling, he kept telling me that he loved me. It's all I wanted to hear. But I really wanted to hear that from my mom. I was terrified and alone and needed my mother. And I had never felt so far from her in all my life.

When I had called my father and told him the news, he was shocked, but was accepting. I immediately begged him to let me move back in. But it wasn't that easy. My mother would never give me up that easily. Would never just let me have what I wanted. So I kept fighting with her. Kept telling her how much I hated her. Kept sinking into a deeper hole of depression and loneliness. I was scared for my baby. I was scared that my relationship with Richie would never last. That he would become so sick of all the drama going on that he would just leave. I needed him, or I would become just another statistic. My fear came out as anger, and I lashed out all the time. The cops were called on numerous occasions. I kept complaining to my teachers at school. I knew my mom was going down every legal route she could to get either Richie or I into trouble, and there was no way I could let her win.

Eventually, a social worker got involved through the school, and finally pressured my mom into letting me move back in with my father. I was ecstatic. Not only was I away from my mom, but I was able to see Richie again without having to sneak around. This was it! My life was complete! I was happy! I rarely thought about church even though my heart ached every time I thought about my Pastor and his family. But I knew I would move on. Richie and I would have this baby and start our own lives...and it didn't need to have anyone else in it.

But reality sunk in fast. Me and Richie wanted to behave like a married couple, so that's what we got. Married couple behavior. And it hit us like a ton of bricks. Honeymoon time was over...let reality sink in. We would argue over stupid things. We got on each others nerves all the time. We had adult problems to worry about now. The fun times were over. And I went through a period of time when I wondered if I really loved this man...or if I was just staying with him because I was having his baby. And it terrified me, because what I wanted most was to prove everyone wrong who thought we wouldn't last. And I wanted them to see how perfect our lives were and laugh in their faces. I couldn't become just another teenage mom. The thought killed me.

We fought viciously sometimes. We swore it was over. Then we would make up. Then it would start all over again. Peace and then war, peace and then war. I was so scared that this was the life I was going to bring my baby up in. I felt like a failure. I even fought with my Pastor. I attacked him every time he tried to reach out to me. I wanted him to just leave me alone and let me handle myself. Because even though I kept failing, I swore that I could make it through the tough times on my strength alone. The only thing that I did right, was call my mother and try and reach out to her so that she could be apart of me and my child's life. Because even though she had caused me so much pain, I couldn't let my baby grow up without his grandmother. Life went on like this for a while, and then my senior year started. Richie and I were learning how to deal with each other, but we were far from perfect. And had a long way to go. We even fought the night before my son was scheduled to be induced. But on January 3rd, my precious baby boy was brought into this world, and my life hasn't been the same since.

We named him Richard, and I loved him so much. I loved him from the moment I first felt him kick. And I felt some of the ice break off my heart the moment I saw his face. He was so beautiful and so perfect. And I thanked God for giving me this precious gift regardless of the circumstances that led to his birth, and regardless of the mistakes I had made in my past. I wanted to raise him to love the Lord and have the strong walk with God that I never had. I wanted everything in my life to change the moment I held him.

And so part of my healing began.

I am again so thankful for my high school, that worked with me all throughout my pregnancy and made it easy for me to stay on track so I could graduate on time. It was tough juggling school and being a mom, but I did it, because I loved my son. I even decided to nurse him and would spend my lunch period in the nurses office pumping bottles for him. Everything was working out. I was on good terms with both my parents. My relationship with Richie was still a little rocky, but we were getting better all the time. We loved our son so much, and wanted a better life for him. We wanted to get our lives back on track. We still wanted so much to follow God.

But the major thing that was tripping us up, the one things that was truly hindering our attempts at getting closer to the Lord, was sex. Because we kept doing it. Even though it had OBVIOUSLY brought us so much pain and heartache in the past, we ignored all that. Because we were still stupid, and still foolish. And during this time I even met with my Pastor and his wife to make up with them and apologize for all the trouble and heartache I had caused. And I sat at their table and lied in their faces telling them that me and Richie were no longer doing those things we used to. And that we were going to wait until marriage. And my sin again was taking me farther from the Lord. Farther and farther still.

In September of that year, when I was 18 years old with an 8 month old baby, I moved into Richie's sisters house. He was living there while his previous home was fixed up after a house fire. I was thrilled to finally be living together as a family and happy to finally be an "adult" and not have to answer to anyone. But I soon learned once again that you can't run from God. You can't hide your sins. I hated living with his sister. His grandparents were also living at her house and the three separate households blended into one was not a good combination. We had three separate views on life. We had three separate agendas. We were always arguing about dishes and housecleaning. It was miserable. I hated watching Richie leave for work knowing that I would be stuck at home all day with the fighting and the lies. It took a toll on our relationship. We were both miserable people trying to raise a son we loved to be better people than we were. And then it happened. The thing I dreaded more than anything...I was pregnant again.

Oh I cannot describe to you the misery I felt! It was true that I no longer had to deal with parents and church and school...but how was I going to bring another little baby into this world with a nine month old baby sitting at home already? And I was so unhappy? I didn't know how I was going to make it, I really didn't. And the tension in the house kept growing. And things kept getting worse. And one day, the tension broke out. And Richie's sister and I got into a huge fight. And we yelled and screamed at each other and she hit me. Square in the face. And as I was sitting there with tears streaming down my face, hurling curses at her, I realized something. It took me a little while before I could sit down and let it dawn on me, because after that I moved into my aunts for a month until Richie's house was fixed. But it was something that truly began the final process of healing in my life and in my heart.

Here I am, 18 years old, I have a boyfriend and a baby with another one on the way. And this is my life. I screamed and yelled like a trashy, filthy human being at a woman I currently hate, for circumstances that I have the power to change, and this is my life. I keep running from God and by doing so I am telling Him that He is not strong enough to help me through my problems. I am telling Him that He is not able to turn my life around. Only I can do that. But I haven't done that yet. I keep waiting for it and it hasn't happened. And yet here God is, standing in the sidelines, waiting for me to realize how much I need Him. And He has been crying with me and grieving with me this whole time. And I ignored Him. Because I wanted to prove that I could make it. I wanted to tell this world that never loved me or made me feel special that I was worth something. That I was worth loving. When God knew that all along. And had been trying to tell me that from the start. And I sat there and thought about the huge fool that I had been. The years of my life that I had wasted. The roads that I could have avoided. The life that I could have had. And I cried and I cried and I cried. And I told God that I wanted Him. I told Him that I knew He was strong enough and good enough and purely ENOUGH to heal me.

And my life hasn't been the same ever since.

I'm going to write a post tomorrow sometime (or I guess today sometime) about all the changes in my life and the things I have learned, but this is the basic overview.

My relationships with my family have never been better. My mother is one of my best friends. My dad supports me in everything I do. I love them both to pieces. I am still close with my Pastor and his family. I still run to them if I have a problem I need help working out. And they still put up with me :) And I love them for that too. Richie and I have recently gotten married. We had our second son a little over 5 months ago. We still argue from time to time...but what married couple doesn't?! I even made up with his sister, whom I see and chat with at least once a week.

And don't get me wrong... it has been a year since I sat down and had that Ah-ha! moment, but my life was not something that you could just flip a switch and heal overnight. It had taken years for me to dig the giant hole that I had buried myself in. And it will take years to dig myself out. But I am a work in progress. I am getting better everyday. My relationships have all changed for the better. I am trying to raise my sons to love the Lord. I am still dealing with a lot of the circumstances that stem from the choices that Richie and I have made in our past, but I know the Lord will see us through. Our walk with God is stronger than it's ever been, even though we still have so far to go. But that is something to be truly thankful for.

I still struggle with a lot of self esteem issues from time to time. I still seek love and attention on occasions when I don't need to. I still look at myself some days and think
"Really, how could anyone truly love me?"
And then I remember Psalm 139:14
"I will praise thee; for I am fearfully and wonderfully made: marvellous are thy works; and that my soul knoweth right well."
And when God says I am fearfully and wonderfully made....I believe Him.