Friday, January 15, 2010

Thoughts from a Teenage Mother

When we were getting the Christmas stuff down from the attic the other day, I grabbed a couple of bags of sheet music that I had stored up there as well. Going through them, I found a few old pieces of paper amid the music, containing a poem and some writing I had done when I was 17. I thought I'd share them here...

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This is love
You are what makes the sun shine bright
What makes the birds to sing
You are my precious one, my light
You are my everything
I can look into your eyes
So beautiful and blue
And I know life's worth living for
I've found my life in you
And when you smile up at me
With joy so true and pure
I know that you, who are my life,
Are the one I would die for
I hold you gently in my arms
And watch you while you sleep
And cherish you, so soft and warm
For I know this time won't keep
You are my joy, my life, my love
My morning, noon, and night
My darling gift sent from above
In a blinded world, my sight
You a hold a place so special, and
So deep within my heart,
For unlike those who've come and gone
You were mine right from the start
You were created deep inside of me
You are my very own
And the bond we'll share throughout the years
Will be yours and mine alone
For once God did look down on me
And lovingly He smiled
He knew of what my life had need
So He gave me you, my child




Tuesday, June 30, 1998

It was Thursday, August 28, 1997. The day the doctor's tests confirmed it: I was pregnant. I was also exactly sixteen years, two months, three weeks, and one day old, and on the twelfth day of my Junior year of high school. Not the ideal situation for having a baby.

I had always been the good girl. I didn't go to parties, I didn't smoke, drink, or do drugs. I had been at church every Sunday and Wednesday since I was four weeks old. I was saved at the age of five.

I knew better.

But the lust and teenage hormones, along with parents who trusted a little too much, were too much for me to resist. So my boyfriend Michael and I had sex. And after we had been together for five months, I got pregnant.

I was in a complete panic. How on earth was I going to deal with this? Michael and I broke up, though not over the baby. He got another girlfriend. I had to face my family and friends. I was so ashamed. My parents were getting divorced after twenty-one years of marriage. I had to transfer from my school to the Margaret Hudson Program, a school for pregnant girls and girls with babies.

I was beyond stressed. I cried all the time. I tried to figure out which would be the least messy way to kill myself, which I knew I couldn't really do, because that would be murdering the baby inside of me. I couldn't sleep. I couldn't eat. The first two months of my pregnancy, I lost ten pounds.

But as I lay in bed one night, trying to figure out what on earth I could possibly do, it hit me: nothing. There I was absolutely nothing on earth that I could do. But God could. God always could. And I could do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

That changed everything.

That night, I gave my life completely to God. I told Him I was sorry. I told Him I didn't know what to do. I told Him I couldn't handle it.

So He handled it for me.

Michael broke up with his new girlfriend. He called me in the middle of the night and told me how sorry he was, and how much he loved me and the baby. My family and friends were all very supportive and encouraging. It wasn't my fault my parent's were getting a divorce. My first o.b. appointment was on Thursday, October 9. The doctor set my due date for May 4, 1998. I started at Margaret Hudson on October 13. And it wasn't so bad after all. There were girls there who I could relate to, who really understood what I said to them. By the end of the first week, I had three good friends.

Life, I discovered, wasn't so bad.

Of course, it wasn't great either. There was the morning sickness. The weight gain. Those nasty pre-natal vitamins. The blood work. That stuff you have to drink for your glucose screening.

But there was that heartbeat, rushing along at 150 beats per minute. That first tiny movement in my belly. Watching my baby kick and squirm on the ultrasound. There was the baby shower, getting the nursery ready. There was the guessing game - boy or girl, bald or lots of hair, what color eyes? There was the special bonding between my mother and me, and a whole new level in my relationship with Michael as I gradually came to trust him again.

And through it all, there was God.

On Friday, April 24, my water broke. I was in labor for nine hours and six minutes. At 1:51 am on Saturday, April 25, 1998, nine days before my due date, I gave one last push and my little girl came into this world. Michael and my mother were there, while everyone else waited in the room down the hall. She was nine pounds and thirteen ounces, twenty-one inches long, with a head full of dark hair and beautiful blue eyes. Michael brought her to me after the nursery had run all their tests and declared her perfectly healthy. He laid her in my arms, sound asleep and oblivious to the world around her. My beautiful Kaytlyn Elizabeth. My little Katy Beth.

That was nine weeks ago. It hasn't been easy. She's had jaundice, colic, thrush. But it gets easier every day. She sleeps six hours straight at night now, and just a few days ago she discovered her hands. She smiles all the time. She thinks its funny when she sneezes. She loves to watch the Prevue Channel. Her hair is turning a deep auburn red, which her (red-haired) Grandma loves.

Her Daddy comes to see her all the time, and she is fascinated by him. I start my Senior year at my old school in a few weeks. We plan to get married next summer. Who knows what the future holds?

God does.

He has brought me through this much, and I trust Him to take me through the rest.

I know that every baby conceived has a purpose. From the moment that sperm and egg meet, God knows that baby and has a plan for their life, whether their parents have planned for it or not. God creates each life with meaning, and He creates no mistakes.

I know because it's 11:30 at night now, and a few feet down the hall, in a room with walls covered in Big Bird and Cookie Monster, in a crib with Elmo sheets and bumper pad, wrapped up in a fuzzy green and white blanket, sleeps the most beautiful, wonderful, perfect being He could ever create. My little girl. My daughter.

Heather Dawn Morrison

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(present day) Of course Michael and I did not get married. Instead, the day before Katy's first birthday, he tried to kill himself by overdosing on drugs, then refused to stay in rehab. I refused to marry him and bring up my child in a house where things like that went on. I trusted God to bring me someone better, and a little over a year after that, He did. Tony and I have been married for nearly 9 wonderful years, and now have three kids, and would love more.

God has truly taken care of me for all these years.

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