In the Blink of an Eye
This is impossible, I said to my reflection in the bathroom mirror. The pregnancy test was shaking slightly in my trembling hands. “I’m going to be a mother,” I felt excited and scared. I looked back down at the stick. Something so small, yet so powerful. I’m going to be a mother. The words echoed in my brain. I looked at my stomach, still flat, no one could tell, still small, but not for long. I was eighteen, with a part-time job, no money, still living in my parents’ house. I made this choice the moment I chose to be with him, the man who is the father of this unborn baby. I wasn’t in love. I was in pain. Years of neglect and instability pushed me into his arms where, for a moment, the intrusive thoughts dragging me down to my personal hell were silenced. I was faithful to my companion, though promises had never been exchanged. I was irresponsible. Yes, this was irresponsible. It didn’t matter who was to blame. I was going to be a mother. That’s all that mattered now.
