We were high school friends. In the eleventh grade Marissa confessed to me that she was pregnant. The father was the father of a friend of hers. It happened at her house. We did our best to try and find information, we agreed that abortion was wrong and that adoption was better. She said she would probably have to go live with her grandparents in West Virginia. And that she didn't want the father to get in trouble.
I helped her hide her situation for a while, and defend her decision. She did go to West Virginia and she wasn't able to give up her baby for adoption. Her older sister took in her baby, and she finished high school remotely. Babies are funny, because after the baby it's like nothing happened. But internally you just can't give up your baby. Her sister let her spend as much time as she wanted with her baby, and promised her that when she was old enough they would tell her who her mother was. She was a mother.
Something happened inside of me. I started to get this queasy feeling. Every time I held her baby I got that feeling, but a thousand times over. I wanted to tell the baby I was her mother. It burned in me. I was out of high school, so therefore legal. I asked her to help me get her brother in law to get me pregnant. It was crazy time all around, but he got me pregnant. My baby was also taken in by her sister. She and I spent a lot of time with our babies, both girls. We were finished with college when the girls were told who their true mothers were. After we told them I asked my daughter to call me Mommy. You can't put into words the feelings of hearing your little girl call you Mommy.
