Pride Over Pity

by Lowry, Kailyn

  The chaotic conversation that was really just a bunch of repetitive questions and no answers came to a halt once I finally accepted I was really pregnant. Talking was useless and would get me nowhere until I dialed Jo’s number. I didn’t say much on the phone. I just told Jo he needed to come over as soon as possible. I spent the next fifteen minutes debating how to break the news gently. No seventeen-year-old boy wants to hear his girlfriend say, “I’m pregnant.” When Jo finally arrived, he parked outside of my place and I went out to meet him. Every step and every movement to his car felt like the biggest moments of my existence. I couldn’t bring myself to say those hauntingly life altering words, so I just handed him the white stick that represented our future.

  Jo stared at the pregnancy test silently, freaking me out even more. I needed him to be responsive and comforting. He was the only person who had the ability to reassure me, but Jo didn’t utter a single syllable. I couldn’t tell if it had any impact on him whatsoever, so I got out of the car, possibly even more upset than I was before. If he wasn’t on board, I didn’t know what kind of choices I would have. Abortion? Adoption? Raising a child on my own? Abortion is such a horrible word. Sadly, I knew exactly what it meant. The experience had been so horrific for me that I couldn’t really bear to consider it as an option again. Once was almost impossible to recover from, twice would mean falling into a deep depression and never bobbing back up for air.

  The next couple of weeks were an adjustment to say the least. After I told Jo he went home and told his mother, so his parents became aware almost immediately. Jo has a great, supportive family who will stand by him through any storm. They were the first people who sat us down to have a real solid talk about our future and the baby.

  Janet, Jo’s mother, had experience dealing with teen pregnancy considering she was once a teen mom herself. She had Eddie Jr., Jo’s oldest brother, when she was sixteen and knew firsthand what we were going through and what we would be facing. She reiterated the same harsh facts I had heard in the abortion clinic. I understood the mountain we had to climb was sizable. This wasn’t the first time I was hearing about the hardships of motherhood for a sixteen-year-old girl. You’re still in school. How are you going to afford it? It’s so expensive. The diapers, the formula, the clothes they always grow out of, and not to mention the childcare you’ll need all the time.

  Honestly, all those questions did terrify me, but in that moment I realized that I wasn’t concerned with how other people would feel about whatever decision I made. Any link between abortion and my baby, even just the suggestion, made me squirm inside. I realized that this time it was not the solution for me. I knew now for sure abortion was absolutely off the table. I told Jo how I felt and he seemed to be on board.

  We spoke with Jo’s father about our decision. Since my home wasn’t exactly the best environment in which to raise a baby, he promised to finish remodeling their basement to ensure we would have enough room and privacy for when the baby arrived. He explained to Jo that he would have to pay child support for eighteen years, if our relationship didn’t work out, and then there would be college expenses. His parents impressed upon us the seriousness of our situation and how trying the next few months would be, let alone the next few years. I believe Jo felt forced to make an effort in our relationship.

  Once this decision was made, it was time to let the secret out to the rest of Jo’s family. He made an official announcement at his graduation party in front of his entire family. I was uncomfortable knowing Jo’s big occasion was about to be overshadowed by this news we had. The quiet, reserved silence should have been because of a speech from his parents about his future and how proud they were of him. Instead Jo was announcing that I was pregnant. To my surprise, congratulations echoed from every corner of the room. His family’s genuine support lifted my heart out of the pit of my stomach. Although I was convinced I was doing the right thing, their support made me feel so much more confident I could actually have this baby. We didn't receive any disapproval, just fair warnings of how challenging things would be. Everyone in his family made it known to me that, if I needed anything, they would be there for me. Their blessings meant the world to me. I needed to know others believed Jo and I were capable of succeeding and beating the odds.

  We weren’t alone. This little bit of relief removed a few of the weights I carried in the pit of my stomach, especially because his parents weren’t setting deadlines or making ridiculous demands we could never meet. As long as Jo stayed in college, they promised to help us as much as possible. The stress and anxiety had already begun, but I knew I wasn’t by myself. I was on the right road to making the best out of what we had. And as far as I was concerned, that road did not include my mother.

  ***

  I believed that the longer I withheld the news from my mother, the better off I’d be. It wasn’t that I was afraid of her reaction; it was more that I was wary of the fights I’d have to put up with. There had already been enough yelling to last me a decade, I didn’t need any more thrown into the mix. There was also a part of me that was trying to protect myself from more disappointment. I didn’t believe that my mom was capable of stepping up and being my parent, even though I desperately needed her to be.

  Months went by and the morning sickness I dreaded started up and didn’t stop. Summer with its high heat and humidity is not a comfortable time for me as it is. Now, the changes to my body and the constant nausea only made it that much worse. While all of my friends were out in their bikinis, showing off their fast metabolisms and naturally thin bodies, I went into hiding. I couldn’t wear a bikini or risk betraying my secret. I was only a few months into my pregnancy, but I was still worried I would be judged.

  As summer drew to an end, I was ecstatic that the humidity was starting to wear off and layering clothing would be considered normal again. But the end of summer brought new problems that I had to face. Just like every other high school student, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to returning to school, but this year I had a legitimate reason to dread the fluorescent-lit, generically decorated rooms. Sure, I could hide the pregnancy for a while, but soon I would be stared at and talked about down the hallways. It was high school, after all.

  Meanwhile, I was so caught up worrying about how I would deal with the idle gossip at school, I almost forgot that I still had to come up with a plan to casually drop the news of my pregnancy on my mom. Based on the way she handled my last pregnancy, I didn’t trust her to be supportive. I had decided to clue in her at the last minute because I felt like she didn’t deserve to be involved. Having a child so young was going to be hard enough; I didn’t need her slurring her opinion to me. However, that strategy went awry.

  My body was plotting against me and it was becoming harder and harder to pretend that nothing had changed. My mom drove me to school a few times and nearly every time I needed her to pull over so I could vomit. I don’t know if at first she conjured up some insane stomach flu that only hit in the morning to make sense of that, but eventually someone dished the news to her. In an ideal world, this would have been the moment my mom turned her life around for her future grandchild.

  Oh, Kailyn! This wouldn’t have happened if I had just paid attention to you! If I just would have been a better mother. This is all my fault.

  Deep down I hoped that my mom would take on the persona of the concerned parent, unfortunately that’s not what happened.

  Cramped in the small kitchen of our tiny apartment, Janet, Jo’s mother sat down at the table. The hesitant looks I shared with Jo betrayed the supposed secret we were about to unleash on my mother, who seemed to be in the know anyway. Janet had never been inside our apartment, another indicator to my mom this wasn’t a happy talk. My mom had the audacity to sit there and cry after we told her. I was so infuriated I lost sight of any words thrown around. As alone as I had been, I still wanted guidance and a comforting hand on my back. All I got were her tears and I felt she had no right to cry.

  Chapter
5

  I Want My MTV

  My mom and I were forced to live amicably as mother and daughter while Jo’s parents prepared the basement for us to move into. The awkwardness between us progressed as the pregnancy did, so I tried to find a distraction to take me away from how bad my living situation had become. MTV’s huge new reality series, 16 and Pregnant, had aired to a wide audience, including myself. Really, for me there couldn’t have been anything more relatable on television. Reruns of Boy Meets World were always great, but this new MTV show had an emotional tug.

  Most shows worth watching are controversial and 16 and Pregnant was no exception. I understood the taboo idea behind it all but didn’t care. The issue they were portraying was real. I was going through exactly the same things these girls were going through and I knew it was an important show that could help girls like me.

  As 16 and Pregnant gave me people to relate to, I became more interested in the show itself. Since I was becoming so emotionally invested, I decided to go on MTV’s site to see if I could find more details. Crazy enough, MTV was casting for another season. I didn’t think there would be any harm in applying. I was sure there would be so many applicants that my chances would be very low. I didn’t give much thought to what would happen if I were chosen.

  Two weeks later I was at Jo’s house and my cell phone rang. It was a long distance number. Who could be calling me? I picked up on the off chance it was important. To my complete surprise, a casting agent was on the line and she explained she was calling on MTV’s behalf. I talked to her for a little bit to discuss my current situation and the pregnancy. The phone call was very to the point. She basically just wanted to confirm my story. As we talked, I thought about what it would mean if I was chosen, but I didn’t have any emotions about it just yet. I was convinced that the opportunity would probably fall through. This especially felt true as she explained the next step of the process, which was to fill out a questionnaire and send in home videos.

  I interviewed my best friend, Jo, and my mom on camera. I wasn’t positive Jo or my mom would agree to even do the interviews, but once I had them on board, there was only one last step to be considered for the show: film myself talking about my situation. I spoke about how I found out I was pregnant, what we were doing to move forward, and how my friends and family felt about all of it. Although it was the last thing I expected to happen, a few weeks later, I was signing paperwork and getting parental approval.

  It was official. MTV had selected me to be part of the new hit show. But I had no idea what to expect. I felt strongly that it would be a great way to get my story out and hopefully inspire other girls to make good decisions, but I was too busy preparing for the baby I was about to have to really wrap my head around what being filmed for a television show would entail. At this point, I was still living at home with my mom, but by the time the cameras showed up she had agreed to sign custody over to Jo’s parents and I had moved in with them. I was so preoccupied, with the move and dealing with being pregnant that I barely gave the idea a second thought until the day the MTV crew showed up for the first day of filming. By that point I was nearly six months pregnant and showing. Of course, the first shot they wanted to take was at the one place I felt most uncomfortable—my high school.

  At Nazareth High, I was the new girl and always would be because it was such a small community. All the other kids had grown up with one another through elementary and middle school and I had just jumped into Nazareth High School like an out of place character. Now this character had cameras following her around. Granted, I had signed up for all of it, but I wasn’t prepared for the reactions. Even without the camera, the stares were enough for me to feel like I was under a microscope. I hoped the strangeness of it all would eventually begin to feel normal.

  The first few hours of filming were the most awkward. I wasn’t used to having a lot of attention directed at me and now I suddenly had cameras following me around, filming my every move. The impact on my life of being part of a reality television show was overwhelming and I wasn’t sure if I could handle it.

  TV is supposed to be glamorous, but real life isn’t, especially when raging hormones affect all of your actions. The cameras caught me making irrational, emotional decisions that didn’t really portray me at my best. And I wasn’t the only one. Jo quickly became annoyed with the cameras and we fought more and more as my due date neared. The filming certainly wasn’t helping our relationship. Jo knew just as well as I did the characters we were about to project on national television were not going to show us at our best, but the fact of the matter is we were being real and not holding back.

  Chapter 6

  The Dreaded “D”

  My life falls a tad bit short of a fairy tale, even though some days it does feel like there’s as much drama as the movies. Like Lindsay Lohan in the Parent Trap, I had questions. What kind of job did my father have? Did he have other children? Most importantly, who was he? The dreaded “D” word was either avoided or pulverized like a piece of meat by my mother. I don’t remember her ever having a single positive thing to say about him.

  My dad disappeared from my life when I was six months old and to this day I have no idea what really happened between my parents. All I ever had was my mother’s story, but judging from my own experience, my mother isn’t exactly the easiest person to get along with. I knew there would be no magical explanation as to why my dad wasn’t around, but I still felt like I needed answers.

  My first few months on earth weren’t normal by any stretch. From what I’ve been told, I was a very sick baby, run down by pneumonia. Instead of taking me to the doctor as was planned, my mother says that my dad whisked me away from Pennsylvania to Texas to raise me on his own. He did take me to the hospital once we arrived, but my mother came after him with detectives and lawyers and eventually got me back. Although my mom claimed that it was his controlling nature that led him to that plan of action, knowing that he had at least attempted to raise me on his own made me believe that my father was more than just a deadbeat dad. I wasn’t satisfied with the story I was told because none of it explained why he wasn’t involved in my life now.

  I needed to know why.

  What bothered me the most was that it just seemed like, to my dad, losing the custody battle had been grounds for giving up on me altogether. There was no restraining order keeping him from visiting me or at least sending a cheesy Hallmark card on my birthdays, yet from that moment on he had disappeared from my life. He didn’t seem to care if I was doing okay. He didn’t seem to care that I needed him in my life. The wounds were wide, open, and raw.

  Then one random day, as I logged onto my Facebook page, I was unexpectedly given the opportunity to find the answers I had been looking for my whole life. There was a message from an unfamiliar name and no picture to help identify whom it could be. I read the message over and over. “You don’t have to respond . . .” The words didn’t seem desperate for my attention, but apparently my father’s sister, Beth, had been searching for me on MySpace and other social networking sites for years. I felt inclined to know more about her and where she had been my whole life, so I responded. As soon as I learned who she was and that she was connected to my mysterious father, I began fantasizing how my life would change for the better because I had always secretly hoped that one day he would come back to rescue me from my miserable life.

  Me and my Aunt Beth

  The only problem with that fantasy was that I was now three months pregnant. Although I had always felt let down by my father for never being around, now I worried that I was the one who would be a disappointment to him. If he found out I was pregnant, would he still want to know me? Why would anyone want to enter my life at such a hectic, crazy time?

  Turned out I didn’t have to worry. Facebook messages turned into hours of phone conversations with my aunt and father, all of which were positive. My aunt invited me to visit her and her daughters in Texas. My father lived in Waco, a town outside Dallas, and sin
ce I would be in the immediate area already, I knew I wanted to include meeting him in this trip. It was a hundred percent my decision and my plan. I packed for a few days, minus the single precaution I received from my mom—hold no expectations. I thought I knew better than to trust her words of wisdom.

  Granted, it was my Aunt Beth who had originally reached out to me and invited me to visit, but I wanted to believe my father was just as enthusiastic and if she hadn’t invited me first, he would have eventually. Plus, after waiting so long, what harm could meeting him do? I didn’t believe there was any way he could damage me any more than I had already been damaged. I thought my mother was just being negative, so I left her advice in Pennsylvania where I felt it belonged, and boarded a plane to Dallas, Texas. I was finally going to meet my father—Raymond.

  We were in the thick of filming for 16 and Pregnant and MTV wanted to capture this momentous moment in my life, so I agreed to let the cameras come along. It was actually very reassuring to have the MTV crew with me because it felt like they were a protective backup team, ready to swat my dad away if things went awry. Sifting through the crowd at the airport, I had an image in my head of a strong, tall man who would appear nervous and uneasy but still confident and strong. Instead, the man who greeted me had a mullet, missing teeth, and was at least a foot shorter than I thought he would be. Only the Texan twang proved to be intact.

  Daddy. Dad. The old man. My father.

  I wasn’t expecting my dad to be sporting a cape and saving the world during his free time, but I had thought he’d seem a little more put together. Nothing about the man I was meeting now seemed consistent with what he had told me about himself. Really, he seemed to me like a mess of contradictions. Supposedly, he held two associate’s degrees, yet I don’t know if he had a job. He used to be a marine and a bull rider, but he was absolutely out of shape with no trace of his former military self. It seemed to me that he had let himself go to the point of no return. I was supposed to be proud to call this man, Dad?