At eight centimeters dilated I was begging for an epidural to relieve the pain I had been suffering through. An epidural is an injection of anesthesia into the spine that provides pain relief for the lower half of the body. Originally, I was set on having a natural birth, but by this point the pain had become so unbearable I realized there was no way I could get through the delivery without one.
Finally, my doctor was telling me it was time to start pushing. In front of seven people and three Flip cameras, I began the most physically demanding process of my life. Push, Kail. Push. The nurses, the doctor, my mom, and Jo all encouraged me. I hated those words. Shut up! Shut up! In the midst of the cramping and pushing an individual out of my body, I demanded absolute silence. Is that too much to ask? Finally, the voices all around me quieted down, but the cameras were still there. They seemed to hover three inches from my makeup-free face the whole time. Up until then, I hadn’t had any serious regrets about having my life documented, but my mood toward that was changing. I wanted to cry.
At 6:15 p.m., Isaac Elliott was born at six pounds and four ounces. Jo cut the cord like a proper father and announced the arrival of our boy. My stomach deflated slightly. I was a mother. Now I cried.
I held Isaac, who was wrapped tightly in a hospital blanket, for an all too brief moment and glimpsed his angel face before the nurses took him away from me. His umbilical cord had been wrapped around him and as a result there was no typical shrill cry. I knew something was wrong, but I didn’t really understand why he was being taken from me. I wanted to forever hold that image of his beautiful face in my head. How did I create such a perfect, little human being? The beauty cancelled out all wrongs. The endless fights and many mistakes along the way vanished miraculously the moment I saw my son. I was left to be a clutter of joy, sadness, and exhaustion.
Over the next few days I experienced such incredible sadness. I no longer had a ball of life reminding me by way of kicks and hiccups that we were one. That same little baby I had nurtured in my body was now suffering from severe jaundice, causing his skin and the whites of his eyes to yellow. The reason for the alarming color was that, because Isaac was born nearly a month early, his liver wasn’t fully developed enough to break down enzymes. Wrapped up in a blue light that resembled a glowworm, he underwent phototherapy treatment in order to decrease the levels of bilirubin in his blood (build up of which in newborns can be dangerous). In those first few days, I was only allowed to see him and hold him for a few hours each day.
My anxiety was building fast as the problems with Isaac began to stack up. On top of the jaundice, the doctor was concerned that the soft spot on his head was very small. There was a possibility he had premature fusion of the skull. In other words, Isaac might end up mentally handicapped if the development of his brain was stunted by the growth of his skull. He would need to be closely examined at every check up until they could rule out the possibility.
I was scared to death. It felt like my worst fears were becoming a reality, but I tried to relax and focus on the normal aspects of becoming a new mother, like learning how to burp Isaac and change his diaper. This was the first time I ever had to change one, so it was a little bit of a challenge. Maneuvering the baby and trying to secure the diaper is especially difficult with a newborn. My first priority was to make sure my delicate son was safely lying down. As I was slowly securing the diaper, he got me. Yup, he peed all over me. My little boy was a pistol.
Three days later, I was back at Jo’s house and more alone than I had been in the hospital because Jo and Janet had gone back to work. At least in the hospital there were nurses an earshot away. Now I was all on my own and, with only the help of Google to answer my endless questions, I had to learn get by. Scared doesn’t even begin to describe the nervous energy coursing through my body. How was I going to take care of this tiny, baby on my own?
Changing Isaac was my biggest issue. He was so fragile, still in the fetal position. It was like pulling apart a doll made out of glass. Would I break him if I didn’t spend twenty minutes gently uncurling his tiny body from the natural womb position? Hurting my baby seemed so easy to do, but I was determined to do everything necessary to prevent that from ever happening.
People had warned me motherhood was hard, but nothing could have prepared me for the mommy obstacle course of diaper genies, projectile vomit, and insistent crying. I found myself frequently using the floor of Isaac’s nursery as a bed. Only getting a couple hours of sleep a night became the norm. Thankfully, maternal instincts quickly kicked in to help with my adjustment to this new lifestyle and I willingly made all those little sacrifices that are a part of normal motherhood. Tears, throw up, and poopy diapers aside, I would do it all over and over again. Sleep or no sleep, I loved this little boy. I had discovered unconditional love. The purest form of unconditional love is the love you have for your child and now I had that. I was by his side every moment, so if Isaac ever needed me, I’d be there.
Even though we lived under a roof with other people, it sometimes felt like Isaac and I were alone. We were lone rangers together. I tried to convince myself I wanted it that way—if I learned to take care of Isaac on my own I’d be ready for single motherhood if need be—but honestly I was deeply lonely. I wanted to believe that I didn’t want to be bothered by visitors, but the truth is, there was no one around to help in those grueling first days. Jo and Janet returned to work immediately after Isaac’s birth, so I was alone every day until about 7:00 or 8:00 in the evening. The perceived abandonment felt perversely good because I was so fueled up on stress and hormones I was dismissing the sensible side of me that normally would have recognized that social interaction is healthy. It wasn’t until some of my friends came to visit that I finally peeled off my pajamas and combed my hair. I had no time in these early days for luxuries like hair straighteners or eyelash curlers.
***
Amidst the crazy excitement and stress of those early days, 16 and Pregnant continued filming. Through the two months after Isaac was born, the patterns of arguments and struggles began. Like many other teen mothers, I was definitely feeling isolated and trapped at home. Jo and I were fighting relentlessly over everything, from whose turn it was to get up and check on Isaac to our future together. I was frustrated because I felt like at least he was able to leave the situation for a bit by going to school and work, whereas I was stuck inside all the time.
The lack of structure, made the days long and monotonous and having no car cut me off from having a social life. The complete freedom I was used to from such a young age had been taken away and I felt like I was becoming a housewife—except that I wasn’t actually Jo’s wife. I had nothing of my own. I had no money, no car, no job, and no life.
I wanted to be independent and not rely on anyone, just like I always had been in the past. The enclosed environment I was living in was close to killing me. I appreciated Jo’s family for taking me in, but the situation was taking a toll on our already deteriorating relationship. We were never able to resolve our problems on our own. Because we were living under their roof, his parents were involved in every spat. As soon as Jo and I raised our voices, Janet and Eddie would be there for better or for worse. They would immediately state who was right or wrong in the argument and choose a side. Janet’s advice began to sound like commands to me on how to handle myself and how I should parent Isaac. The constant interference contributed to our destruction.
All I really had was Jo’s family because it seemed like my mom was never around, not even to help with Isaac. This made me completely dependent on them. Although I was so grateful to Jo’s parents for the support they had given me, there was a part of me that was deeply frustrated by my dependency on them.
Finally, after over four months of living with the cameras, filming of the show was done and I was hopeful things would start to calm down. Jo and I didn’t resent each other, as my episode of 16 and Pregnant made it seem through our rough patches. During the filming of the show, we fought a lot
because of all the stress, but after the cameras left things settled down and our relationship improved.
A few weeks later on Valentine’s Day, a friend of ours was celebrating his birthday and Jo and I actually had the opportunity to step out of the mommy and daddy zone for a bit and be social. It was difficult for both of us to go out together, so Jo offered to throw a little celebration in the basement. He seemed to be having fun, a word we weren’t accustomed to anymore. The party was normal, maybe too normal. When Jo asked me to go upstairs with him, I obliged. I sensed he was up to something but I had no idea what. He slipped a small box out from his sock drawer and opened it to reveal his mother’s engagement ring. Jo explained to me that Isaac’s birth had changed him in ways he hadn’t expected. He wanted to move on from all the negativity with me by his side as his wife. I was being asked to be part of his family officially. I was extremely shocked because Jo and I had never discussed marriage or even engagement. We had done plenty of growing up in the past few months and getting engaged seemed like a positive and happy step forward, so I said yes. Jo attempted to slip the gold-dipped ring onto my right hand as I stuck out the left one. I hoped he wasn’t too embarrassed that he’d gone for the wrong hand.
With that, it started to feel like my luck was finally turning around. The stitches were healing in the wounds Jo and I had dug open over the past year. Best of all, Isaac’s doctor told us we didn’t need to worry about the soft spot on his head anymore. But, just as the worries I had about Isaac’s health were beginning to fade, something horrible happened. At four months old, Isaac had a seizure in my lap.
There was no warning. All the most awful stories start out on a normal day during an everyday activity. Unfortunately, that’s how Isaac’s first seizure happened. Isaac was on my lap and I was trying to play with him and bond as usual. He’d laugh here and there but I couldn’t get much out of him, which was a tad on the unusual side. Was he getting sick? Suddenly, Isaac’s movements came to a halt. He went limp and his eyes rolled back. Then he threw up. I immediately dialed 911.
People showed up, even my mom and her boyfriend, but I don’t remember calling anyone. I don’t even remember if Jo and Janet were home at that point. It’s all a blur. All I know is that as the ambulance rolled up to the house, nothing mattered but Isaac. My little baby was very sick and for a mother there is no bigger fear. Riding in the back of the ambulance with him made my stomach turn into a jumble, and the bumpy road we were driving on had nothing to do with it. Was this my fault? Did I do something wrong? It was easier to blame myself than to think that it could just be the randomness of the universe.
In the end, the doctors couldn’t answer my questions or pinpoint the cause of Isaac’s seizures. We stayed in the hospital for four days and then followed up with a neurologist a couple times, but the scans revealed nothing. The lack of sleep made me emotional and I would lash out wildly, usually at Jo. I wanted to cry every time I looked at Isaac. The haunting image of him hooked up to machines with countless wires coming out of his tiny body was enough for any mother to lose it. He was only four months old and going through more than some adults ever have to endure.
During the four days we spent in the hospital, Isaac had an EKG, EEG, MRI, and CAT scan. But none of those tests gave me any solace or even much information to go on. Isaac had one more seizure during his stay at the hospital. The doctors were there to witness it this time, yet there was nothing they could tell me. The seizures weren’t febrile, which ruled out fevers being the trigger. The doctors also confirmed that Isaac did not have epilepsy, a serious neurological disorder. Thankfully Isaac hasn’t had a seizure since we left the hospital. My concern levels never dropped, though. I will always worry, even when Isaac goes off to college.
***
All things considered, I had to start thinking about my future. I was a getting tired of being a puppet and not walking on my own without strings. Since I had no car, I felt like had to ask permission to take Isaac out. I couldn’t pay for anything, which had me feel like I couldn’t validate my opinions. I didn’t say much. I didn’t eat too much. I didn’t go out without asking. Dependency is not always healthy. Why do you think they named those adult diapers after the word?
Me and Isaac
By this point, the illusion of being in love with Jo was wearing off. I used to truly believe we had a chance. The more I matured, the more I changed. I wanted freedom from the monotonous days and ultimately from Jo. I wanted to be a good mother to Isaac and live under no one else’s authority. I couldn’t do that with Jo, especially living under his parents’ roof.
Meanwhile, 16 and Pregnant had aired and using the episode to reflect back was unhealthy in some ways. I didn’t want to dwell on the past when I needed to live in the present tense. Watching the footage of Isaac’s birth was both beautiful and heart wrenching. It was a reminder of how ill he was, but also how far we had come. Watching his name, Isaac Elliot, appear across the screen brought back the joy I felt in the moment he was born. I smirked as the normal gestational weeks were posted as if I had gone through a perfectly standard labor. I never went full term. I guess somewhere in the editing they got it mixed up.
Nonetheless, the beauty of childbirth gave me chills. I was so lucky to have professionals film my experience. Although it pales in comparison, we do have a shaky, homemade version just in case Isaac ever wants to see a different point of view. For the most part, looking back at the footage was helpful. I realized the positive certainly outweighed the negative experiences from pregnancy up until birth.
Watching my life on television, the fights with Jo and the hardships we endured, was painful but it definitely helped me gain some perspective. I felt like I had grown since then, but not enough. I wanted to have a place of my own and a car so I could drive to work and support my son. The steps I was taking toward a better future weren’t advancing my life as quickly as I had hoped. Jo and me constantly teetering back and forth wasn’t helping either. By this point, we were finished falling back into each other’s arms. We ended the engagement after only three or four months.
I focused on job hunting and found a position at Sports Authority. A few weeks later I received another phone call from MTV. They were offering me a chance to be part of the 16 and Pregnant spinoff series, Teen Mom. I wasn’t sure if Jo would be on board to be under a microscope once again, this time over a much longer period of time, but for me, there wasn’t much to contemplate. My living situation at the time wasn’t making me happy and, since nothing too negative had come out of filming 16 and Pregnant, it seemed like Teen Mom 2 would be a huge opportunity for me to do something positive with my life.
Chapter 9
Single to Homeless
The boat was rocking. Tipping to the left and then to the right. I eased into each direction in order not to lose my balance completely. There was no ocean, only a sea of people. Jo and his family were on one side, while a new arrival in my life was on the other. I would have to choose and that choice would have a major impact on both my life and Isaac’s.
Leaving Jo had crossed my mind often, I just never had the courage to go through with it. I got a job at Sports Authority and because of the confidence I got from working there I was beginning to feel like I could stand on my own two feet. This newfound sense of independence helped me to see that I didn’t have to settle for how I was living.
Isaac during his stay in the hospital for seizures
Jo’s family accepting me was the closest I had ever come to being a part of a loving family, but I was beginning to realize that I had made myself believe I needed his family because I didn’t have a supportive family of my own. I had grown so tired of constantly trying to fit into Jo’s family, but more than that, I was done lying. I had become friends with a guy named Jordan, one of my coworkers at Sports Authority. Hanging out with Jordan was refreshing and fun, even if at first he seemed like he wasn’t exactly the smartest of the pack. He was a great person and our friendship was a hundred percent h
ealthier than anything I ever had with Jo. But spending time with Jordan, friends or not, was difficult because I felt like I had to lie. Even though I was working, the reality of a minimum wage job was that I couldn’t contribute much to the household. I was still very much dependent on Jo’s parents at this point and I knew they wouldn’t approve of me hanging out with some guy they’d never met.
Swimming with Isaac
Even a day at the beach meant weaseling around so Jo and his family wouldn’t find out. I felt guilty for wanting to get away for a while, but it had nothing to do with Jordan. The fact of the matter was I needed some time for myself. This period of sneaking around didn’t even last as long as a typical celebrity marriage. Jo quickly noticed my attraction and attention sway, so he began focusing on me again. He wanted me to chase him to resume the game of back and forth girlfriend. Jo spent more time talking to me and pushed the conversation into the direction of working our kinks out as a couple. But by then I had already moved on. Isaac deserved to have a happy family, not two miserable young adults hiding behind polite smiles.
***
At first, I didn’t want to be completely honest with Jo in case Jordan and I decided not to become serious. It was a very big deal to me, too. This would be the first relationship I had been in since Isaac was born. That being said, I knew not talking about it would only make the conversation much harder in the future. Uncomfortably, we discussed the nature of my relationship with Jordan. It didn’t seem like much of a secret I was spilling. After breaking up with Jo, it was only a matter of time before one of us moved on. Jo’s parents weren’t thrilled about me dating, but this also meant Jo would be dating soon, too. It was the golden break we needed in our complicated lives.
Once I cleared the air with Jo and his parents, Jordan and I were free to date. We chose not to rush into a relationship so our friendship could blossom first. I decided we should wait to have sex and even after three months we were going strong without it. It was comforting to have found someone who was willing to wait until I was ready. Although, eventually, he did become impatient. Like most guys, he succumbed to the belief that having a girlfriend was pointless if sex wasn’t part of the relationship. The waiting had proved to me that sex didn’t have to be the epicenter of our relationship, but I understood to a degree that it was important to him and gave in.
Pride Over Pity Page 5
