Three months later
“How are you feeling?” Sierra asks when I walk into our room and drop onto my bed, my hand instinctually going to my protruding baby bump. These last few months I’ve experienced a myriad of emotions.
Sadness—when I found out the college I’m planning to attend can’t accommodate me with a baby in tow. There’s a waiting list a mile long, and by the time I would get in, I would lose my entire scholarship. Which means the only way I can go to South Carolina is without my baby.
Anger—both, at myself, and Keegan—when I searched for him online, I couldn’t find him anywhere. I know it’s because I have no damn last name to search, and that thought made me even more mad. How could I be so reckless that I spent days with a man, having sex and getting to know him on a personal level, yet I never took the time to find out his last name?
Anxiousness—when I hit my lowest point and decided my only option was to go to the clinic and get an abortion.
Relief—when Sierra refused to allow me to go until we talked through it, and I recognized I was just scared and couldn’t really go through with it.
Sadness—again—when I came to the conclusion that my only other option was adoption, and in less than five months, I’m going to have to hand my baby over to someone who is able to care for him like he deserves. And yes, I say him because I’m now twenty weeks along and found out today that I’m having a little boy.
When the doctor handed me the ultrasound pictures, my first thought was if he’ll have Keegan’s dimples, and then I lost it. I told Sierra I needed some time alone. She was hesitant to let me go, but we agreed to meet back at home.
If you can even call it that. Ever since I’ve made the choice not to abort my baby, Jordan has grown distant. I don’t blame her, though. This isn’t what she signed up for.
And then when I put off starting classes at Columbia until the fall, the distance grew considerably wider. I explained I just needed time to figure out what I’m going to do, but I think she’s worried I’m not going to college anymore. I’m supposed to be leaving in less than two weeks for orientation, and I haven’t said what I’m doing one way or another.
While Jordan hasn’t come right out and said anything, Sierra turning eighteen last week means we’re both eighteen and now adults. It’s time for us to figure out our next step. Plus, it’s not fair to continue to live off Jordan, especially when she could be using our room to foster a child in need.
During my long walk home, I did a lot of thinking and I’ve come to a decision.
“B,” Sierra prompts. “Are you okay?” She moves from her bed to mine.
“If I can’t go to college, I can’t support my baby,” I whisper, the lump in my throat preventing me from speaking louder. “I-I…” I close my eyes, not wanting to see the look she gives me when I tell her what I’ve decided. “I’m going to give the baby up for adoption.” My head drops to my chest and sobs rack my entire body at the thought of giving him up. But what other choice do I have?
“Look at me,” Sierra says, her fingers tapping my chin, so I’ll lift my head back up. When I open my eyes, she says, “Is that really what you want? Because if it is, I’ll support you one hundred percent. I’ll be there for you any way I can. But we both know I can’t move to South Carolina with you because I’ll have nowhere to live.” She’s right. When we were younger and planned to live together wherever I went to college, we thought our parents would pay for our apartment. Obviously things have changed.
“But listen…” she continues, scooting closer and taking my hands in hers. “We lost everyone. It’s just us. This baby you’re carrying is a part of us. He has your blood running through his veins. If you want to keep him, I will do whatever I have to do to help you. Columbia wasn’t the only college you were accepted to. It’s the college you chose to go to. If you pick one in the area, we can get a place together, and I’ll work full-time while you go to school.”
“You’d do that?” I choke out. It’s crazy how much my sister has changed back to her old self since I found out I was pregnant. She never hangs out with her ‘friends’ anymore. She got a full-time job working as a waitress at a popular restaurant in town. And every dime she makes, she says she’s stowing away for our future.