Page 9 of Tastes Like Watermelon Moonshine
And what will people at church say? What will the people in this small, mostly Christian town think? I’m pretty sure most people here hold to a stance of marriage before babies but not necessarily marriage before sex. At least they won’t judge me for the sex part, but they will for not having “safe sex.”
Mom sits next to me, her hand holding mine, comforting me. She has bags under her eyes. Bags that weren’t there until we found out I was pregnant. Dread pools in my stomach, right near the transducer that the tech moves across my belly. I hate thatit’s my sin that’s causing this.Mysin stains her beautiful face. The guilt and shame weigh a pound heavier.
Has Mom complained at all? No. Then again, she never complains about anything. She also hasn’t gotten mad at me. Hasn’t yelled, hasn’t scolded. I feel no shame from anything she has said. These guilty feelings are all of my own making.
“Hanging in there, Rae?” I open my eyes at Mom’s voice. I think a part of me has kept my eyes closed so that I don’t have to face reality. But it’s time to look at that screen.Baby Bean. That’s what I’m calling this baby for now. It’s so tiny up there on the screen, and in reality even smaller than what the ultrasound shows. And it’s mine. My responsibility. My consequence.
I look over at Mom and sniffle. “Yeah, I’m okay, Mom.” I look back to the screen and my wiggling baby. “Just taking it all in. Trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I’m going to have a baby.”
Mom squeezes my hand again. A sliver of a smile crosses her face. “It’s a lot. I didn’t expect to be a Nana this soon. But God’s plans aren’t always the same as our plans.”
I want to roll my eyes. How is this God’s plan? If He’s so good, why didn’t He prevent me from getting pregnant? The shame would be easier to bear if I didn’t now have this very visible sign of my sin. And why couldn’t God keep Austin here in Clear Creek?
God, your plan hurts. And it doesn’t make any sense.
It’s not like it was an “accident.” I knew what I was doing. Mom has been open and honest with me my whole life, and not just when it came to sex. I was taught that sex is good, so it’s not like I did it as an act of rebellion. I wasn’t sneaking around and curious to see if it was awful before marriage and instantly better once you were married. God is the creator, and He’d declared His creation good, and sex and procreation have been there, a vital part of His creation, from the beginning.
But sex is for marriage. Once two became one. I know for sure now, that sex isn’t just a physical act. The heart is one-hundred-percent involved. And as a Christian who knows right from wrong, the consequences, even without pregnancy in the mix, are very real. Before I’d known about the baby, I’d wrestled with the guilt and shame. And now… Now it’s ten times worse. I wondered before if God could forgive me. Now I feel completely unforgivable.
Oh, God, will You and I ever get back to the relationship we had before? Will You ever forgive me?
A tear leaks out of my eye and makes a trail down my cheek. I’m not ready to put a voice to my questions, not right now. But at some point I know that I’ll need to talk with someone about my doubts, my fears, the guilt, the shame. Someone who has more life experience than me. Someone who is closer to God. Mom is obviously an option, but I feel like I need an outside view. Someone who isn’t living this stress right now like I am. But do I really want to discuss my mistakes with someone else? And how will Austin feel when I discuss what we did with other people? I mean, people will know about my pregnancy soon anyway. I’m not a big girl, but I’m not small. I’m certain I’ll have a very obvious baby bump before long.
“I’ve gotten all the measurements. The doctor or midwife will talk it all over with you. I’m not allowed to discuss anything. But I can say ‘congratulations!’” The tech gently wipes the gel off my stomach. She flits out of the room without a care in the world. A tiny bit of my heart is jealous. Oh, to be carefree again.
I put myself back together, then sit up and wait for the midwife to arrive. Clear Creek is too small for an obstetrician practice, so I selected the closest practice, which also happens to be the same place Mom went when she was pregnant with Robert and Riley. With this practice I’ve got the option ofselecting a local hospital, or even giving birth in my home. The midwives here do whatever the patient wants, for the most part.
Closing my eyes, I push away the thought of giving birth. That is still thirty-some odd weeks away, and my head hurts and my pelvis feels itchy just thinking about it.
A gentle knock sounds before the exam room door swings inward, and a dark-haired midwife with big, expressive brown eyes walks in. “You must be Raegan.” She squeezes my hand. “I’m Jennifer, but you can call me Jenn. Congratulations on the beautiful baby.” Taking a seat on the rolling chair, Jenn goes over the measurements and the recently done blood work. “Everything looks perfect, Raegan. Baby is measuring right on track, and should arrive around April sixth or so!”
Baseball season will be in full swing then. Austin won’t be there for the baby’s birth. And if he comes back for the holidays, what do I tell him? This pregnancy will be obvious by then, and if I see him, I’ll have to tell him. Maybe he’ll get upset that I waited that long to tell him. Or mad that I didn’t tell him right away? Or mad in general, that I’m even having his baby. He’s such a new Christian and we never discussed his views on unborn babies.
I’ve been firm in my view on the unborn for years. Every baby, no matter their health, or their conception, is valuable in God’s eyes, and worthy of life. So, even if Austin wants nothing to do with me and the pregnancy, or –I cringe at the thought– wants it terminated, I’m keeping this baby. I hate the term terminated. It’s not a computer program you can just shut down. It’s a life, a soul, made in God’s image.
“I’ve got a few pamphlets and print-outs here for you to take home.” Jenn hands me a green folder packed with information. “I’ll see you again in about four weeks. Congratulations!” And then she’s gone. I figured it would be a longer appointment than this. She doesn’t want to know about my diet, or what I do for work or anything? I guess just about anybody can have ababy these days. She’s just happy I’m having a baby. And yeah, babies are good things. Things to be happy about usually. But sometimes… Sometimes the mom isn’t ready. Sometimes it’s overwhelming thinking about the life growing inside of you. The completely unexpected life and the responsibility that will come with it.
I schedule my next few appointments and walk back to the car with Mom. The folder and sonogram clutched in my hand. The test had been a small shock, but actually seeing the baby and hearing its heartbeat… I’m ready to cry all over again. There’s joy mixing with the guilt and shame that have been churning in my stomach all day.
Mom and I sit in the car and let it run for a while. Just soaking in all the information we just received.
“Will everyone at church hate me?” I finally whisper into the silence.
Mom’s head jerks up from where she’s been staring at her fingernails. “I don't think anyone will hate you. Will people be disappointed? Maybe. I would hope that they would all have grace, and understand that no one is above reproach. Anyone can fall into sin.” She slides her hands up and down the steering wheel. “Look at David, he messed up majorly, he slept with another man’s wife and when he got her pregnant, he covered it up with murder. Yet, he’s still called a man after God’s own heart.”
I nod. My heart knows the Bible truths. They’d been ingrained into me since I was a child. And I’d claimed them as my own at the age of eight. But right now, my head just doesn’t understand these truths. I’m faced with a choice. Make what I’ve been taught my reality… or let my emotions rule.
“I think at this point we’ll need to tell your brothers, and maybe it might help you to tell a friend, or someone at churchthat you can talk to.” Mom reaches across the car and rests her hand on my arm. It’s comforting.
Chrissy is away at Baylor, and even though Jamie is still in Clear Creek and I’ve seen her at church… I haven’t said a word to her about what happened, and how Austin and I kind of aren’t together anymore. All through high school I’d been unsure of what to do after graduation. I could’ve joined Chrissy and gotten a degree. But all I’ve ever really wanted was to be a mom. And a wife. Well, wife first, then a mom. I’ve checked off one of those boxes now…
Jaimie and I have hung out multiple times since I found out, but I just haven’t had the guts to tell her. I haven’t even told Ms. Rosa, who pops in and out at the café fairly often. Thankfully the morning sickness hasn’t been all that bad, so it’s been easy to hide my pregnancy.
Somehow, I managed to hold it together when I told my brothers at dinner. I didn’t cry when they gave me strange looks, or when they asked “why” and “how”. I know Mom and Dad have given them the sex talk already… So they’re not getting a ton of overwhelming information at once. But, I can’t help but wonder if they hate me.
I grab my phone and shoot a text to Jaimie, asking her if she wants to come hang out. In the past, Chrissy, Jaimie, and I would grab a horse and go out for a ride; find a deserted pasture and just lay there, talking about our hopes and dreams, or about the cute guys at school who had caught one of our eyes. We each had specific plans, theater performance, vet tech school,culinary school. They’re following through on their plans, and even though I didn’t plan to go off to school right away, I don’t know if I’ll ever end up in culinary school.
But ever since a certain evening… Ahem… I haven’t been too interested in going out to any of the pastures. Especially not the pasture furthest to the east. My favorite tree sits in that east pasture. It’s glorious. I have no clue how many years old it is, but it’s massive. The branches create the perfect canopy, and the moss underneath is the perfect pillow for dreaming.
