Not a Blueprint: It's the Shoe Prints That Matter

On the road to Mommyhood, I’d gained a feeling of freshness as my body went through the hormonal changes. I’d put on plenty of weight—from 105, I packed on around 45 more pounds.

Every now and then, my back ached something awful. And going from an A to a C cup, my breasts had gotten more sensitive, especially around the nipples. Although my breasts didn’t hurt, they just felt kind of jiggly, like there was liquid inside ’em. I felt a stretching sensation around my abdomen, and at times there was a twitch of pain. I had even swollen up around the ankles and fingers; my face was bloated like a basketball. One good thing was that I hadn’t experienced morning sickness like some of the others, whose unsettled stomachs kept them from coming to class.

 Inside, I hurt so bad not having Craig around. It was as if my heart had been ripped out. I had given myself to him, and even though he knew about my pregnancy, he wanted no part. That’s what hurt even more. And to think, I loved him unconditionally. Words could not describe the depth of my emotion. I cried until my teardrops dried up. Being pregnant and alone was a hard and painful journey. I started journaling to lighten my pain.

With Netti and I no longer close, my friend Peaches often visited. Peaches came to our small suburban town from Joliet to enter her freshman year in high school. Fortunately, she lived in the district where I attended Thornton Township High School. Right away, we established a relationship, calling ourselves “home girls.” Peaches stood five foot eight with a medium complexion, round face, and beautifully slanted eyes. She was a curvy, full figured woman with full hips paired with an even larger bust. She wore her hair cut short and tapered in the back.
The fact that I was going to be somebody’s mommy brought a cluster of mixed emotions. At times I was happy. Sometimes I was sad. And at other moments, I felt nervous and daunted. I was so happy to be  having my own