The Metamorphic Journey
Page 6
Thank you. I did it. In my heart, I knew I had to do it for Rafael. My baby. My new love.
My metamorphic journey to greatness transformed me into a mother, wife, and high school graduate. Carlos and I married two weeks after graduation. Shortly after Rafael’s fourth birthday, we gave birth to a baby girl named Sofia.
Heather’s Flutter
* * *
Mommy pulled a suitcase out of the closet and began frantically pulling my clothes out of my tall, wooden-like dresser. The picture of me and Daddy fell on the floor. That angered her even more. She kept saying under her breath, “You have got to go. You’ve got to get out of here. You have got to go!”
I wondered where I was going. Who would take care of me? Why did I have to leave? Was I being put out because I was molested? I was the victim.
Alone. No love from Mommy. No love from Daddy. Molested and raped by Robert. Alone and pregnant.
Mommy sent me to live with Aunt Helen. She had no children. Was more stable than she had been in the past. She had a better paying job and an extra bedroom. She was family. Of course Mommy would send me to live with Aunt Helen.
Once we got inside Aunt Helen’s apartment, I was whisked away to my new bedroom. The room was dark. I don’t know if it felt dark because of the darkness within me or the black and gold backdrop that surrounded me.
Gold swags were draped atop black curtains that hung from the window on black curtain rods. The black with gold scroll-like prints overlaid in a pattern on the comforter was a perfect match to the swagged curtain rods. Underneath the warmth of the comforter were gold satin sheets and firm but fluffy pillows snuggly wrapped in gold satin pillow cases.
Everything matched. The pictures on the wall had black and gold accents that coordinated with the black and gold end tables. The lamps even had black shades and gold bottoms. A guest room fit for a queen.
I did not feel much like a queen. I had been molested and impregnated by my molester. My new dad raped me. Multiple times.
It was not consensual. No matter what he said. I was forced to have sex with him. Forced to keep the secret. Forced to carry his baby.
I was in a dark place physically and emotionally. A few days went by before I was comfortable talking to Aunt Helen. She walked past my room and peeked through the crack in the door every once in a while. I could not talk to Aunt Helen like I talked to Jack. My only true friend had been taken from me. I had been taken from him.
Aunt Helen convinced me to have an abortion. She said I was too young to have a baby. She was adamant that I had to think about my future. No mention of the molestation. Did she even believe me? Everyone was acting like it never happened.
I did not know what to do. I cried. I punched my pillow. I stared at the four walls. I did what I’ve always done to get my mind off things. I fantasized about what could be. Not what was.
I fantasized that I was at home living with Mommy and Daddy. Dustin did not have autism. Daddy was always there to protect us. He was a military man—surely, he was our protector.
The fantasizing life even had me name my unborn child, Joy. I didn’t know if it was a boy or girl. The name represented what I always wanted.
One snowy Monday morning, Mommy picked me up from Aunt Helen’s apartment and took me to the abortion clinic. There were no words spoken the entire ride. Was she still mad that I told her Robert molested me? Was she upset the crisis pregnancy center counselor called the police and had Robert arrested? She should not have been mad about that. They did not even keep him twenty-four hours. He was right back at Mommy’s house.
It did not matter. I was trapped in the car with Mommy. Trapped in her delusion about Robert. Trapped in this decision made for me by the adults that surrounded me. We arrived at the abortion clinic, and Mommy leaned over. “It’s going to be okay,” she said. “This is the right thing to do.”
In that moment, I believed her. Aunt Helen met us there. They sucked my baby out of me. It was quick. It was loud. My Joy was gone.
I returned to my room at Aunt Helen’s house, wrapped myself around the pillows and sobbed. As much as I wanted to keep my mind off of the disastrous life I had already lived for fourteen years, I began to dream about my future. I believed it was possible that although joy had been stripped from me I could receive it back.
Despite the circumstances, my mind traveled to a world where I lived with my baby girl Joy. She was beautiful. Happy and playful. She looked like a version of me with darker hair.
Aunt Helen did her best to comfort me through my recovery. Some days, she sat on the edge of my bed staring into the living room and said nothing.
I had some months to emotionally recover before starting the new school year. There was nothing to do. I had no contact with Jack. We were not able to engage in our ritual of walking up and down the street, laughing at each other’s silly jokes.
Living with Aunt Helen was different. I had more time to chat with her than I had with Mommy.
I did not have to worry about protecting Dustin from bullies. I wondered how he was navigating life without me. Dustin had to have a routine, and if I was not there, his routine was broken. He needed me.
Of course I did not miss Robert. Wished he was gone forever.
I longed to be home with Mommy and Dustin. I longed to pull out my picture of me and Daddy. Hold it up in the air and bring it close to my chest, as if I was giving him a big hug. Unfortunately, that picture never made it into my suitcase that Mommy frantically packed for me. Probably don’t even exist no more.
I realized there was no possibility of me returning home. No one had told me what was next. I just knew that, as long as Robert was there, I was not going back.
Aunt Helen did not visit as often as she had in the past. Things were different.
Robert was eventually locked up. He was arrested on charges of molesting his biological daughter from his previous marriage. Mommy did not even know he had been married before. Apparently, his former wife saw his picture in a local newspaper and pressed charges against him. I was relieved that he was locked up and a girl, just like me, had the courage to report what he had done to her.
I began to see Mommy and Dustin more. For once in my life, I started experiencing joy. I began to understand the meaning of Nehemiah 8:10, “Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is my strength.”
Not a day went by that I did not think about my baby. I regularly asked God for forgiveness. I knew the circumstances were not good for me to have her. I didn’t have much of a choice.
I hoped this decision did not cause God to not love me. I wanted to be loved by Him and recognized that I needed His healing power in my life. In developing my relationship with Him, it became apparent that He had already forgiven me and I did not have to pray that prayer over and over again.
My metamorphic journey to greatness has transformed me into a mother, daughter, sister, niece, and medical assistant. I work at a local medical facility near the abortion clinic that stripped away my Joy. That fixture is a constant reminder of my duty to help others who may be going through what I went through. I have an opportunity to give the same compassion that was given to me in my time of need.
DaNika’s Flutter
* * *
My name is DaNika, and my metamorphic journey to greatness began when I was sixteen years old. I became pregnant my junior year in high school. Initially, I was devastated by the news.
I outlined every dream I would never accomplish because of the setback. Would I graduate high school? Was going to college a possibility? What kind of mother could I possibly be at sixteen?
Like Naomi, Isabella, and Heather, I was challenged with the same decisions.
Abort. Adopt. Keep.
I thought all hope was lost. I later realized becoming pregnant did not mean the end of the world. This life-changing experience was one of many obstacles I have faced, but I did not allow any of them to deter me from realizing my dreams.
I gave birth to my handsome son and
stayed on track to graduate high school with honors. Four years later, I gave birth to my beautiful daughter.
I have always been passionate about my personal and professional development. Because of my strong desire to succeed, I was able to successfully complete five degrees (an associate’s in business administration, a bachelor’s in business administration, a bachelor’s in religious studies, a master’s in public administration, and a doctorate in educational leadership). I was able to persevere despite having two children, being a first-generation college student, working full-time, and being active in my community.
I currently serve as an administrator in higher education. I enjoy inspiring, motivating, and empowering tomorrow’s leaders to achieve their goals, in spite of life’s obstacles.
My metamorphic journey has and continues to make me the beautiful butterfly that people see. The transformation will continue until the day I leave this earth.
I have learned many lessons along the way. Here are eight that have guided me thus far:
“Write the vision, make it plain.” (Habakkuk 2:2)
Be open to explore new directions when you are taken off course.
“To thine own self be true.” (William Shakespeare)
Know that you are “fearfully and wonderfully made.” (Psalm 139:14)
Be mindful of how you treat people. You may cross paths again.
Always go back to say, “thank you.”
Help someone else along the way.
Love really does “cover a multitude of sins.” (1 Peter 4:8)
About
Wailing Women Ministries
* * *
I established Wailing Women Ministries over ten years ago. This organization serves as a resource to women of all faiths. Wailing Women Ministries is active in the community and provides annual scholarships to women pursuing higher education. All proceeds from this book will benefit Wailing Women Ministries’ scholarship recipients.
I recognize that every woman has a story to tell about their metamorphic journey to greatness. Teen pregnancy is one of many obstacles women face. I encourage you to share any story that you feel has been a catalyst for producing the woman that many see today. Someone’s very life is dependent upon you telling your story. Be blessed and continue to be a blessing.
www.themetamorphicjourney.org