Annie's Baby: The Diary of Anonymous, a Pregnant Teenager

by Beatrice Sparks

  When we got to the emergency room door, there were people waiting for us with a stretcher, because Mom had called on her cell phone while driving. It’s a miracle we ever made it.

  With me on a gurney, green gremlins raced through endless halls and up slower-than-molasses elevators. My pains cut way down about that time. I think maybe stark fear, at least temporarily, superseded the pain. Anyway, after eons I was in a room glistening with lights that had big metal halos around them, and somewhere along the way we’d lost Mom.

  The last thing I remember before I conked out, probably from the shot someone had given me, was my calling helplessly, “Mama, Mama. I want my mama. I don’t want this dumb baby; I want my mama.” Slowly, that too faded away into a blur of numberless people crowding into the small room and desecrating my already desecrated body.

  I tried to yell for dear Danny to come save us, but darkness pulled in on me.

  July 26, Friday

  2:16 p.m.

  It’s been two weeks since I had Mary Ann. Mom and I changed her name. She came two months early, and she’s premature and sickly. Some nights she cries almost constantly. It seems impossible that such a shrill eardrum-shattering shriek could emit from her tiny, shriveled, uncoordinated body.

  Having her isn’t anything like I thought it would be. I honestly did think I was prepared for a baby, but I’m not. No way! If she’s not eating, she’s crying or pooping or wetting or having to be bathed or burped, or she’s spitting up all over me, or having diarrhea.

  It was great when we were in the hospital with the nurses taking care of her, and I was being treated like I was a princess or something, but at home…uggggg. I’m a twenty-four-hours-a-day slave to her whims. AND, truthfully she’s not all that pretty, and she doesn’t like to be cuddled like I’d dreamed about: an all-warm and soft and sweet-smelling nestler. NO! She stiffens out her arms and legs and…poops or does something else disgusting, and I wish…but it’s a lot too late for that!

  The days and nights are soooooooooooooo long, I didn’t know they could be so long. Mom says I can’t even go for a walk and leave the kid because she might choke or some other stupid thing. I am sooooooooooo bored and so about to go crazy!

  Dr. Milshaw tried to tell us it would be like this, but of course know-it-all, conceited me, I thought she was just being an adult exaggerator, like most adults are.

  July 27, Saturday

  3:19 p.m.

  I can’t wait until Mary Ann and I can go back to school. Mom’s real good about staying with her so I can see for myself that there is still some kind of life outside these restrictive walls, but I feel like a mutant type of organism, not at all like my old friends who haven’t been through the P.G. thing, and not really comfortable at Tammy’s house or Marie’s house either.

  Tammy’s folks are nice people, but they’re SCREAMERS, and they’re so poor! It always makes me think that someday Mary Ann and I might be there. And Marie, she’s still P.G. and…I dunno…

  July 28, Sunday

  sometime

  My clock broke, so I not only don’t know what time it is, I don’t have any idea at all what date it is. I only know that I’ve been caged here for light years and centuries and millenniums.

  The only reason I know it’s Sunday is because Mom’s home with Mary Ann, and as I was walking many, many, many blocks from our house, I heard church bells in the distance. I was drawn to them, and after a while I heard soft organ music. It was like I was hypnotized, and I zombied toward the sound.

  The door was open, so I just walked in, sat down and appreciated my being able to do what I wanted for a change.

  I stayed until the man quit practicing and picked up his music and left. Then it was cold and creaky and spooky in the old chapel. The thought passed through my mind that it would be a good murder mystery location. “Young unwed mother butchered in cathedral during Bach rehearsal.” That sounded so realistic and possible that I got up quickly and left, not knowing where I was going from there, just knowing I didn’t want to go home!

  I’M NOT READY FOR ALL THE FRIGGING RESPONSIBILITY THAT’S ON ME THERE! I’M NOT SURE I EVER WILL BE, EVEN WHEN I’M TWENTY-NINE OR THIRTY-TWO OR ONE HUNDRED AND SEVEN!

  July 29, Monday

  2:29 p.m.

  Mom bought me a new clock, so at least I know what time it is. I wish I didn’t! I’m every day hating time more. Mary Ann is gaining weight fast, and pretty soon, I hope, I hope, I hope!—we’ll be on the bus for school. She and Tammy’s baby, J. D., can sleep in the nursery there while we try to not only catch up in school but to accelerate. We both are driven to get ahead and make something of ourselves, so we can care for our kids. Marie is not quite as ambitious, but she certainly isn’t like the others who are totally takers and users; some of them even wanted…but I don’t need, or even want to think about that.

  July 30, Tuesday

  8:30 p.m.

  Mom came home late, looking pale and tired. I was ashamed I hadn’t fixed us something to eat. I could have done that! But no, I’m too busy groveling in my “poor me” state. Mom said she’d been out on a few interviews for a night or weekend job.

  “You can’t do that,” I said selfishly. “I can’t take care of Mary Ann all the time all by myself.”

  Mom looked completely beat and told me she was doing everything she possibly could to be supportive of us, but that she’d found her insurance didn’t cover as much as she’d hoped it would and…she held out her hands in despair.

  I broke up and started telling her how I knew Danny had changed, and that he and his rich father would want to help us, and that perhaps Danny and I would even…

  Mom waited for a minute or two, then quietly said that she’d talked to both of them shortly after she’d found out that I was pregnant, and not only had Danny denied being Mary Ann’s father, the two of them threatened to ruin my reputation completely if I even considered DNA testing. Danny said the whole football team would swear they were all…using me…and knowing they probably would lie for him, I started pulling into myself like a turtle pulling into its shell. I wanted to just totally disappear forever, but Mom wouldn’t let me.

  This has been a bad night, but it’s been a good night too because Mom and I just sat and talked and hugged and cried together for a long time, then Mary Ann started fussing but not really crying, so I went and got her and nursed her while Mom and I hugged and cried some more. After Mary Ann had finished eating, she just cuddled up like I’d always dreamed she would, and the three of us nestled together in a soft, quiet, loving little love ball. I mentioned Dad helping, but Mom said he and Grandma lived on her pension and social security in their old, run-down rural house.

  It’s strange, but I’ll never forget this beautiful, hurtful night! It’s emblazoned in my mind in red neon! It’s in a way kind of like I’m going to get well now.

  While Mom took her shower, I made us some soup and a salad, with the baby lying in the middle of the table. She literally was the centerpiece of both the table and my life. I’d never felt such love for her. She lay there making strange melodic beyond melody sounds that were more spiritual than anything I had ever heard, even the Mormon Tabernacle Choir singing the “Battle Hymn of the Republic,” and suddenly I realized that I COULD MAKE IT! I COULD GO ON FROM HERE AND BE ALL THE THINGS I’D EVER WANTED TO BE AND MORE! What an exhilarating feeling! I wish I could make it last forever!

  July 31, Wednesday

  5:10 p.m.

  The parcel post man just delivered a big box from Dad. He writes a note or phones for three minutes a couple of times a year, but…he’s really almost a stranger to me. Maybe I should say he was almost a stranger to me, but no more. HE’S SAVED NOT ONLY MY LIFE BUT MY SANITY with the adorable pink-flowered stroller he sent to: “My little Annie’s I’ll ANNIE.”

  I wish it weren’t so cloudy and semi-windy and I could take I’ll Annie out for a ride, right now! Ummmm, I guess we can wait though till tomorrow, but for now I’m going to take her for a s
troll around our apartment and possibly even down through the halls.

  August 1, Thursday

  10:12 p.m.

  I hate like everything Mom having to take a job as a waitress with her having a master’s degree and teaching credential and everything, but she’s really emphatic about it. She says she can make two to three, maybe even four times as much being a waitress in the prestigious Peach Tree Hotel as she could make any other place. Which will mean less time there and more time with me and Mary Ann.

  I didn’t realize I was such a snob. I’m truly ashamed…still…

  12:47 p.m.

  Mom just got in. She worked a big formal dinner party Mr. Goldmeyer was giving for his wife. It was their fiftieth wedding anniversary, and he’d bought her a magnificent diamond bracelet, which he’d put in her soup. Somehow it had gotten mixed up with the other bowls, and he was furious until Mom found the bracelet and, in her quiet, easy way, handed it to him, then distracted Mrs. Goldmeyer, so he could slip it into her soup bowl.

  He was so delighted with Mom’s cool efficiency that later he slipped two tightly folded one hundred dollar bills in her hand. Imagine $200, plus her part of the fifteen percent tip and her regular wage.

  We laughed about her giving up her teaching job altogether, but, of course, we know she won’t because she feels TEACHING is one of the most honorable and important needs in the world! I tend to agree with her, and I’ve slightly considered that…but I would like to go into one of the megabucks professions too. We’ll see. I guess I’ve got a few good years left in me since I only turned fifteen a few weeks ago.

  August 2, Friday

  12:00 Noon

  I’m having home school since Baby Annie isn’t big enough to go with me to Unwed Mothers school. My teacher, Mrs. Darnell, had a stroke and is partially paralyzed on her right side, but she’s kind and gentle and very intelligent. She expects a lot of me because she says I “have a great deal to offer.” That’s good for my ego! She’s always telling me to “stretch my mind,” that I “have no idea how far it can go till I try it.” Isn’t that a stimulating thought?

  Life isn’t quite so bad now that Mrs. Darnell comes twice a week, and I take Baby Annie out walking nearly every morning and afternoon, but I’m still soooooooooooooooooo lonely! I seem to be neither fish nor fowl.

  Yesterday we were in the park, me sitting on a bench like I was one of the old men or ladies feeding the pigeons, when a couple of kids from my old school bicycled by screaming and laughing, and I felt like another species on the food chain, probably the lowest, most insignificant one, because they passed me like I was invisible.

  I wanted so much to be one with them that I had a single wild moment of wanting to stash Baby Annie in the bushes and take out after them, happily yelling and screaming myself. Of course, I didn’t. I couldn’t. But I still wanted to with some kind of an inner aching and emptiness that is impossible to put into words. Actually, words aren’t nearly wet enough!!!!!!! I know that doesn’t make sense, but it’s exactly how I feel. I wonder if in my whole lifetime I’ll ever be all put back together again?

  2:30 p.m.

  I met old Mrs. Abbot in the apartment house hallway, and she played with the baby for a few minutes, then told me that if I ever wanted her to tend, she would love to. I was so delighted, I almost jumped out of my shoes. She’s going to do it this afternoon, and imagine…I’LL BE FREE, FREE, FREE for at least a while.

  I think I’ll get my rollerblades out and see if I still remember how to keep myself upright. It has been so long since I’ve been JUST ME and doing JUST ME THINGS!

  WOWIE…

  ZOWIE…

  POWIE! I can hardly wait.

  August 3, Saturday

  4:42 p.m.

  I’ve never had so much fun in my life. I bladed to the park and found some kids playing street hockey. They let me join, and I can’t believe how good I was, or…maybe how bad they were. Anyway, it was a blast from the past. I absolutely cannot wait to do it again.

  See ya.

  Gotta go pick up the baby.

  August 4, Sunday

  10:37 p.m.

  Today when the baby and I came in from our walk, we found Mom sitting upright in a kitchen chair, sound asleep. I didn’t know people could do that, and I thought at first she was dead. Obviously, she’d come in from school and dropped her stuff on the table and leaned back in the straight chair and just conked out. It was scary and bizarre because her eyes were half open.

  Crazy thoughts scrambled around in my head, like maybe she’s had a stroke…then what would happen to us? That might be even worse than if she was dead because then I’d have to take care of Mary Ann and her too. But that was dumb, nothing could be worse than having her dead.

  Well, anyway she was just exhausted.

  I’ve been trying not to think about it, but I know she works too hard, and we simply can’t let anything happen to her.

  I’m sooooo sorry and ashamed that Baby Annie and I are such a burden to her, but I haven’t a clue as to what I can, or should, do about it.

  Oh CRAP, CRAP, CRAP. What a miserable excuse for a daughter I am. How could I ever have done this to her?

  August 7, Wednesday

  1:49 p.m.

  Stupid me! I thought I had this brilliant idea that turned out to be about as worthless and useless as most of the other things I think about or try. Actually, it seemed good in the beginning when I thought I’d go out and get an evening job, so I could still go to school and stuff. I was sure Mrs. Abbot would take care of Baby Annie two or three nights a week, and I’d be able to take some of the load off Mom.

  So, what happened? you ask.

  Well, first of all I got out the resume that I’d helped Mom write when she first decided to get a second job. I thought I could make mine sort of like hers. WRONG! She had a list of things she’d done and people to call as references. I had nothing! Nada! ZIP!

  Still I forced myself to fill out applications at McDonald’s, Wendy’s, Chuck A-Rama, Sizzler, Brick Oven, The Dollar Store, and three flower nurseries. None of them could use me even when they had HELP WANTED signs in their windows. Finally I asked the man at Hip Hops, why? And he said because I was “too young to hold a job.”

  Yeah! Barely fifteen. Too young to hold a job! Too young to drive a car! Too young to drink or smoke! Too young to quit school! Too young to date—but not too young to have a baby with all the expenses and physical and mental horrendous responsibilities that go with it! LIFE DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE AT ALL! Hey! Whose fault is all this?

  August 8, Thursday

  1:15 p.m.

  Mrs. Abbot tending the baby occasionally is saving my sanity, and, thank goodness, she won’t let me pay her—as though I could! The doctor said Mary Ann and I can go back to school in another week. Until then I’m floating on a shaky quicksand field. Nothing seems quite real anymore.

  6:45 p.m.

  Listen to this, Miss Nosey Daisy Diary.

  I met Will Peters when I was out riding my bike. He was riding his, and we raced up the bike trail to the top. We used to go to my old school together, although I was in seventh grade and he was in the ninth, but it was like nothing had happened in between. We laughed and joked, and he said I was the fastest and best girl rider he’d ever seen. On the way back we stopped at Jelly’s to get a coke and he asked me if I’d like to go out Friday night.

  I almost fell off my chair, I was so surprised and delighted. Did I want to go? Do kids like candy?

  Do you think I should go? He probably knows all about me and Danny and…so! I’m still me!

  I wonder if I should go. It could be awkward, like if he asks what I’ve been doing or something, what would I say?

  But it wasn’t awkward today. It was nice and I WANT TO GO WITH HIM. ACTUALLY, I WANT TO GO ANYWHERE WITH ANYBODY! No, I’m not really that desperate, but I’ve got to start having a life again sometime.

  August 10, Saturday

  12:44 p.m.

  I can’t be
lieve such awful things can happen to me! Somehow I seem to be like a magnet for pain and disrespect and ridicule and everything else that is negative and sordid.

  Will kept saying over and over that I asked for it. But I didn’t. Believe me, Daisy. I really, truly didn’t! I honestly thought that he was just asking me out like normal guys ask normal girls out…but well, back to the beginning.

  Mom was working a big convention party, and Mrs. Abbot was going to baby-sit, so I felt like Miss Junie Prom on her first date. Well, not really a date because Mom doesn’t believe in “dating” till a kid is sixteen. That is ironic, isn’t it? Mom not wanting me to “really date” until I’m sixteen, and I’m barely fifteen, and I’ve already had a baby!

  So, of course, I had to lie about things as usual and say I was going out with Tammy and Marie to a movie, and that Marie’s mom was going to take us.

  I know this makes me sound like a horrible person and all like that, and I really don’t want to be like that, but I did think it was just going to be a bunch of kids hanging out and goofin’ off and…actually, I guess I didn’t think! I just wanted to do something fun. But it wasn’t fun at all; it was just another “kegger.” The kids were all slopped within the first half hour and had turned their brains off and their hormones and animal instincts on!

  A couple of guys were hammering out what I guess they thought was guitar music, but it was just ear-splitting noise. I was disgusted and repelled, and I told Will I wanted to go home. He just laughed and said there was no way he was going to let me “ruin the party.” Then he said it was a little late for me to start playing “Polly Pure,” and he started getting grabby. It made me so mad that I picked up a big stick and I was about ready to—I don’t know what—when a guy I didn’t even know offered to drive me home. He seemed nice and quiet and shy, but I had him let me off three blocks from my house anyway and gave him a wrong telephone number.

  I feel like such a lost cause! Will I ever meet a nice guy? Are there any? I think I’m going to become a total recluse like my dad and his mother, then I can’t be hurt any more. I wonder if that’s why they like living alone in such a lonely place? If that is the reason, at this moment, it seems like a good, valid one, but…I don’t think it would be a good way to bring up a child, do you?