Though it was around this time last year when I found out, I can still remember it clearly. As I sat in my restroom I could feel my heart beat out a strong thud, thud, thud. It felt like it was about to leap from my chest. I waited for a good long minute then I grasped the home test in my hands and squeezed my eyes shut. I slowly opened them only to witness my fate. The two lines read positive. Immediately tears stained my cheeks. Bursting from the bathroom I fell to knees on the cold hallway floor. From that moment everything became a blurred recollection.
Throughout my childhood I had a passion for fairy-tales, especially Aladdin, Snow White, and Sleeping Beauty. I even had my life planned out to be a modern-day one. After high school I would continue onto college, and then I would go to medical school to eventually land my dream job of becoming a doctor. Struggling in my newfound career prince charming would come and save me. We would eventually marry and spend the rest of our lives together in a house surrounded by a white picket fence. When we were both well off in our established career we would have three children and live happily ever after.
However the instant those two tiny purple lines showed up on that home pregnancy test all those dreams were obliterated. The reality that I would soon become a teenage mother slapped me in the face unsympathetically. I mourned the death of my ambitions. Brokenhearted, I plummeted into the darkest months of my life. I locked myself in a dungeon in order to keep the world out while I struggled to cope with my circumstances. I ran from the comfort of family and friends and began to eat my emotions away. Large sweatshirts became my wardrobe in order to hide my growing abdomen. Not a single night passed where I didn’t cry myself to sleep. It got to the point where I felt so desperate I remember thinking that my life no longer had significance and suicidal thoughts crept into my head. However my storybook didn’t come to a close there.
On June 30, 2008 at 9:42 p.m. a baby girl, weighing seven pounds fifteen ounces with a whole head of jet-black hair, entered the tale. Cradling her in my arms for the first time was a revelation. I realized I had unintentionally let misfortune consume the person I used to be. The first few days home from the hospital I did some soul-searching and a lot soul-learning. I decided that I could no longer go on living the way I had for the past nine months and no valiant prince would ride into my life on his steed and rescue me. I had to save myself.
Now, looking into my daughter’s beautiful brown eyes, I see aspirations that go far beyond living that enchanted life I had previously hoped for. I see a new me that has arisen from this coming of age experience that has been thrust upon me, some would say, too soon. I see myself now as being strong enough to handle any spiteful comment or nasty look that is thrown my way and that gossip no longer has an affect on me. I see myself as being able to hold my head high with pride when others attempt to force it back down. I see myself with a greater purpose and more motivation to strive for all the things I desire.
The “God have mercy on that unborn child” I heard in my twenty-seventh week of pregnancy in church now makes me smile. The Lord did have mercy on my child and he also had mercy on me. Overcoming this mountain has led me to believe that I can turn any obstacle into triumph. Though my story didn’t incorporate wicked witches, evil step-sisters, or poisonous apples it did end with a victorious young woman being liberated from a dungeon and walking away with a princess in her arms.