I opened my mouth just as Greg rumbled through the door winding down what I guessed must have been a very long ramble. out of touch politiciansthe goddamn economythe next round of layoffsthe bosses decision to scale back raises and Christmas bonuses, despite signing off on his own 20% pay hike So much for ho-ho-ho, so much for confessions, so much for answers. I took it as an omen. I wasnt about to try and dissuade the Powers-That-Be. I still needed answers however, so I picked up the phone and went in to my room to make a few calls. The first was actually to Andy, if you could believe it, in a weird way he was closer to me than my own father, anyway, I got his machine: Me and Linda Sue were feeling blue, so we went to Mexico. Leave your number, Im getting a hummer. Linda Sue? No doubt she paid for the trip, but really, did the world have to know they had oral *****? And who made Andy a (very bad) poet? On a crazy whim I called Dorian next. Guess who was whining in the background. Tina? Hold on Lynn, Ill be right thereWell yeah were hanging out pretty steady now. In fact, were actually moving in together in a little while So much for Giselle, so much for summer visits. I muttered a congratulations without announcing my own good news, and then hung up. I thought about calling Taylor, but I knew she would probably just call my momfor my own good. I called Robyn instead. So Ive got this friend who just found out shes pregnant Total bummer. How far gone are y”I meanis she? Six weeks. Shes too scared to tell her parents No doubt. What about the father? Does he know? No, and shes going to tell him either. Hes a real a-hole. No help from the father, no help from the parents? Theres only one answer. You mean abortion? What about adoption. Let me tell you a little story about what happened to a friend of mine It seems Robyns friend chose adoption, as soon as she saw the baby she changed her mind. I dont see whats so awful about that. Ask the adoptive parents. Id tell you to ask the baby but you cant. It also seems that Robyns friend wasnt ready to be a mommy. Sowhat? She gave the baby up for adoption after all? She went on a three-day bender. The babys crying drove her nut buckets. Seems, arm in arm with the monster, mommy shut the baby upfor good. Come dusk I was at a loss for ideas, at a loss for hope, I needed something, anythinganything but the monster for once. I did what I used to do; climbed out my window and perched myself on the roof, lying back I watched the sunset. It was getting kind of chilly and wisps of wind whispered across my face, tossing my hair and causing goosebumps to break out over my skin. I didnt care, I welcomed the change from my anxiety heated flesh. I kept an eye in the sky though, watched as the suns descent reflected in my eyes; the sky turned purple with shades of pink and orange mingling with a few sparse clouds, I cried. I cried full body wracking sobsI cried for me.I cried for Tina finally, and the mess that Sadie had got her in. I didnt have classes the next day so there was nothing to do but fret. Out of sheer boredom I picked up the newspaper and read the headline: MAJOR DRUG BUST. It included a picture of Roberto in a sporty pair cuffs followed by a daunting expose”La Eme and the crank epidemic. It was accompanied by a side article about meth: How it eats big holes in your brain. Destroys the pleasure center. How it shows up in x-rays as big black dead spots spoiling gray matter. How quitting is next to impossible and even those users who suffer through often never recover completely. Footnote: Possible pregnancy complications; crank is a possible trigger for many birth defects, health, and behavior abnormalities. It was all too much to think about, too much to bear, and time was running short. I knew I couldnt stay with Gwen although I knew she would stay by meI wasnt going to ruin her dreams; she deserved them. I was scared to death of closing that door. I feared the uncertainty of choosing parenthood and I doubted that I could give my baby away. I doubted even more that I could raise it on my ownwith of without defects. I needed a solid dose of courage, I needed the strength only the monster could give me. I regretted my weakness as soon as I inhaled; I regretted making the decision to snuff out my babys life. I need two things, the ride home was easy, Robyn offered to drive as long as it didnt interfere with cheerleading. The $500 was presenting a challenge though. My bank account of course was bone dry and the Visa was maxed high. Gwen refused to help, she was floored by my decision. Another option came to mind, one that owed me a lot more than money. First, Nate denied paternity, then I reminded him about DNA. Next he tried to claim poverty, I threatened full disclosure to his hoity parents, to his toity girlfriend, to his probation officer (DUI, post County Fair). Needless to say, he coughed up the money. Distasteful as it was to see him again, it provided a matchless opportunity. You sure youre pregnant? You sure its mine? Youre not b-s-ing me? Im sure. Its yours. No bull. Hard to believe your balls were big enough to accomplish it huh? The question was really, how big are my balls? Big enough to follow through? I didnt sleep the night before, I just sat outside my window staring at the starlight, gentle glitters on a sheet of black; wishing I could wish upon a star and make it all just an evil dream. A dream I would wake up from and be back in her arms, that day before I left and we were together, things were perfectI just wanted to wake up. No such luck. Mesmerized by the come and go, the sad drift and flow of lives in transition, I sat; waiting for an ending. The clinic was gated, walled and secured, but nothing felt safe, nothing felt sane. Why do they make you wait do long? So you can tremble in the shadows of fear and remorse? I gave in to tears, just as the women around me had tears in their eyes, weeping for what could have been if wed chosen to go in another direction. And then, midst waves of heartache, I felt a flutter in my belly, no more than a whisper of an eyelash. Later, my doctor would tell me and my mom that it was much to early to feel a fetus move. Whatever it was, maybe gas, maybe God, I took it ad a plea from the life growing inside of me. I would not abort my baby, nor would I give it away. I would carry it proudly, and when it entered this world I would be the perfect mother. I could only hope that the feeling wasnt Sadie materializing inside of me. More choices followed. I told you once before that life was full of choices; sometimes, good or bad, hard or easy, we make the right choices. When I told my mom she cried and cursed my choices, then she softened and thanked me for honoring my child. She and Greg argued, talked, and finally agreed to offer haven as long as I finished school. Gwen likewise, promised to care for us, work two jobs id need be, it gave me even more to love her for; but I still sent her off to Florida. As my baby grew, motherly love replaced romantic love, and almostalmost diminished love for the monster. I tried to quit but my need was so deep that I slipped once or twice. One tiny snort was all it took to satisfy desire so deep it snatched my breath away. But dont worry, I swear it was only a time or two; you wont tell will you? I wont bore you with all the tedious details of the next seven months”the day to day grind, belly burgeoning around the life growing inside of me. Instead, I offer a few highlights. The top ten reasons why my pregnancy wasnt so awful, followed by a top ten countdown of the lowlightsI know its not really a word.I dont think.call it poetic license. Here are the highs. Ten; feeling my baby move at sixteen weeks exactly, knowing it wasnt gas but somethingsomeoneincredibly, remarkably, alive; reminding me during all the pains that I had made the right choice, that I wouldnt be alone anymore. Nine; calling my dad and Leigh, asking them if they were ready to become grandparents and then listening as my dad sputtered over the phone like a moron, having no parental wisdom to offer except congratulations. Eight; seeing my ultrasound”seeing a heartbeat, pumping strong inside of me, alongside my own, having my doctor inform me that my baby was all in one peace and then informing me to shop blue. Seven; my student advisor, Ms. Green, arranging a home study sort of program to help me finish out the year on schedule (six days before I actually gave birth!) Six; calling grandma and getting a particularly uplifting speech about how every baby, regardless of circumstance, is an angel on a special mission Five; Greg loosing his anger long enough to give me back my beautiful cherry red Jettaok you may not think theyre beautiful, but I had some good times in that car before everything happened. I got my keys backI was ecstatic. Four; Taylor sharing her internet research on fetal development, did you know that a fertilized egg, thirty-six hors old, is the size of a pinhead? Three; sorting through 35,000 baby names in The Dummys Guide to Naming Your Baby, opting for the strong and masculine moniker Evander ChanceEvan for short. Two; epiduralsI meant to do Lamaze, really I did.but I managed to miss most fo the classes; heres to labor without unimaginable pain! And the number one best thing about the entire seven monthsHolding my baby for the first time, knowing just how to do it. Thinking how is red and scrunching face was really quite handsome; unwrapping the blanket to count fingers, toes, eyes, and ears; finding all twenty four exactly where they ought to be. And thenlooking into his beautiful brown eyes and crying because suddenly, for the first time in a very long time, everything felt right. You want to know the lows now right? Okay well Ten; morning sickness, puking my guts out as soon as I lifted my head from the pillow; each and every day, for weeks and weeks. Nine; listening to mom and Greg argue, about me, about the babyabout the odds of it being some sort of freak. Eight; trying to quit tobacco after learning how every puff made my babys heart stop beating. How could I be so hooked? Seven; going to school an outsider, knowing all of my old friends and I had lost common ground and my new friends werent welcome around me anymore. Six; boredom, the succession of little-to-do days; stretching longer and longer toward the longest day of the year. Five; long letters from Gwen, school was great, sororities (can you believe it? Okay so maybe she joined up for the girls) were great, Florida was greatgreat enough to call it home. Four; the silence from Bette, she didnt write again or callI calledI didand I chickened out. She probably thinks I hate her or forgot about her. I wouldve left a messagebut how do you say all the things that I needed to on an answering machine? Three; losing grandma, just when I had found her again; a waterfall of colorful flowers brightened her funeral; but they couldnt disguise the stench of death. Two; my water breaking mid-baby shopping trip; contractionsuterine lightening bolts striking immediately and not letting up for eighteen hours. The number one worst thing? You can probably guess it by nowif you cantyou havent been paying attention. The worst thing about those seven months? My steady, needful, forever relationship with the monster. Learning that addiction is much more than a buzzword. Discovering how very much it applied to my me first psyche. The task of struggling not to give in to the inner voices that felt much stronger than my own; winning most of the time, gritting my teeth and just saying no. Worse were the losing timesthose moments when the world Id created for myself closed in around me. Id like to give you a happy ending here, but Im not really sure how this story ends myself. Being a mother is hard, a lot harder than I imagined; but my baby boy is beautiful and I can sense an old soul in his deep brown eyes. But he cries a lot and he doesnt like to sleep well at allnot more than two hours at a time usually, it could be an effect from my choicesit could just be how he is. Dont lecture meI accept my part. I love him with all my heart, Im patient when he cries, or I try to be and I walk around with him until his head lolls onto my shoulder and his long lashes flutter shut. But Im only nineteen years old and things get hard on my own, my mom refuses to help except for babysitting when Im workingshes threatening to kick me out Im sitting here outside my window, its early morning and the sun isnt out yet, the sky has developed that deep azure blue like it does right before the sun breaks and orange and yellow beams cause you to shield your eyesI sit listening to my son fuss in his crib which is in my roomI dont want him to be without me. Listening to him sometimes makes me want to curl up into a ball and roll away. Sometimes I think that I just want to die. Crank is more than a drug, its a way of life, the monster will forever speak to meyou can turn your back but you cant really walk away, the things you did while you were floating higher than the sun itself will always be therethose haunting voices will always be there Right now, looking up at this sunrise theres only one person I can think of who could ever truly be there for me.whose voice is stronger than the addiction.