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

. . .  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 hurts even more. And to think, I loved him unconditionally. Words could not describe the depth of my emotions. 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.