I moved to Michigan and into the basement of my future (ex) in-laws. It was dusty and mildewed and spider-infested, but it was something new. I looked for a job, but no one wanted to hire a 17 year old high school dropout. My future (ex) mother-in-law helped me to get enrolled into night school classes. According to the state of Michigan, I only needed a half a credit of government to graduate. I would start in January and would graduate on time. In the meantime, I was just trying to get acclimated to my new life.
In early January we found out that I was pregnant.
My parents drove out to Michigan and the six of us had a powwow on what was going to happen. My parents thought that abortion was the best plan. Dragonmaker’s parents thought that adoption was the only solution. I had dreamed about my son and knew that I had to have him. Dragonmaker backed me up and we argued three ways until it got too much for me and I walked out.
I didn’t get very far. I had a quarter in my pocket, but no one to call. I think I walked about 6 or 7 blocks before I realized that there was nowhere for me to go, no one for me to call, nothing for me to do and Dragonmaker found me. We talked for a little while and he convinced me to go back. It wasn’t difficult. Where else would I have gone?
But I didn’t leave with my parents, though, at that point, I could have. I had made a decision to stick this out and to make a life with Dragonmaker. He was right there with me and we started planning pretty shortly into it. My parents were disappointed, but they had been extremely young when I was born, too. My future (ex) in laws weren’t happy about it, but it wasn’t their life, at least it shouldn’t have been.
I started night school and the coursework was a breeze. I met one girl and we hit it off immediately. She was to become one of my closest friends for many years and as our friendship progressed out of class, we started hanging out and really getting to know each other.
I still couldn’t find a job. It was hard enough to find something at 17, but add pregnant to the mix and it was just too much. Dragonmaker was in school to become a paramedic and working in a restaurant, supporting both of us. We were still living in the basement.
In the spring, Dragonmaker’s sister came to visit for a few months. She didn’t like me. I’m not sure if it was because I was pregnant or because of her own demons, but she was an unhappy person and took it out frequently on me and my future (ex) mother in law (her stepmother). This added to my future (ex) mother in law’s stress, so she took it out on me.
I wasn’t working and was barely in school, so I tried to keep up with whatever extra burden Dragonmaker and I were putting on the household. I cooked fairly regularly, cleaned up after both of us and kept the basement in decent order. This, however, was not enough. I was expected to pick up the extra work caused by Dragonmaker’s sister. When my future (ex) mother in law finally lost it entirely and smashed skunky homebrewed beer all over the entryway to the garage, it fell to me to clean it up. I was told, in no uncertain terms that it was partially my fault that it happened (though they weren’t my beers she smashed, nor were they Dragonmaker’s) and, therefore, I would clean it up. I was also supposed to be cleaning up after my future (ex) father and brother in law because, apparently, my mere presence added to the workload that my future (ex) mother in law had taken upon herself.
Probably the entire situation would have been lessened if I were a more cooperative person, less stubborn and less confrontational, but it was not to be. The more she assumed I was to take on, the more I pushed back. Less than a month after I graduated, it became unbearable for everyone.
Dragonmaker’s grandma to the rescue!
The grandparents owned half a cottage on a lake, 45 minutes out of town. The other half of the cottage was owned by Grandpa’s cousins and was traded off every August. Grandma told us that we could move in to the cottage and I could spend my pregnancy out there.
It was a mixed blessing. Dragonmaker and I were able to set up housekeeping, just the two of us, family and friends would come to the lake for boating or swimming or just sitting on the porch, enjoying the breeze off the lake, it was relatively low-maintenance, had an excellent kitchen, which inspired me to bake ALL THE TIME, but…
I was 17 and pregnant., it was exceptionally hot and I had an internal space heater, I had few friends in the area, my family was 600 miles away, I didn’t drive, Dragonmaker worked 45 minutes away and I was alone a lot of the time.
I read, I baked, I sat on the dock and fed the ducks. When Dragonmaker was home, we spent time together, often playing cards, our friends came to visit (and ate the baked goods, thank goodness, because there were WAY too many for just the two of us. It was mostly peaceful and we were mostly happy, but I don’t think I had yet shaken the underlying feeling of sadness that I wasn’t even really aware of.
The summer passed, as summers do. My pregnancy progressed, as pregnancies do. The further along I got, the more I was ready to just be done, but the baby (we had avoided finding out the sex ahead of time) wasn’t even due until September 13.
On my birthday, I made a failed attempt to throw myself a party. No one really came, although one of the (very) few who did literally gave me the shirt off his back as a gift. I still have that shirt, believe it or not. I also got a phone call from my mother. She told me she was leaving my father.
All in all, not the best birthday ever.
Time went on and I found myself counting down the weeks until my baby was due. Dragonmaker spent all his time complaining that he REALLY didn’t want to raise a Virgo. I countered that I REALLY didn’t want to carry a baby an extra 10 days. He won… the baby waited and waited and waited. I walked constantly, I drank castor oil, we went for rides on bumpy roads (not that there were other types of road out by the lake), but to no avail. Meanwhile, in utero, the baby started making his personality known. He would kick in time with certain songs or to specific bands. The Ramones and Harry Belafonte were favorites. He would periodically stick his foot out as if he were stretching, to the point where you could see the wee foot sticking out of my belly.
It had gotten to be too much, and I talked to the CNMs about scheduling an appointment to induce labor.