Family is a source of strength. When everything else crashes down on you it's family that you can rely on to pick you up. That is what I have always believed. Family was the most important foundation of my early life and when the major upheavals came later in life it was family that stayed as a rock and a shelter from the storms of life. When my dad contracted cancer it was hard. It was a battle that wore on the heart and mind and body of not only him, but my mom, myself, and my sisters. And even though he eventually succumbed to the disease, together we endured. It was the same a few years later with my mom. This time is was mercifully quick, but again my sisters and I leaned on each other, becoming stronger and closer through it all. There was another upheaval almost a year ago. Since my mom's death we have all continued living together in our childhood home, but now our family and source of strength was down to three. The three siblings. My older sister Karen was 26 and the self-appointed leader of our group. I am the middle sibling at 23 and my younger sister Lindsey just turned 18.
It began with Lindsey came home crying one afternoon. Karen and I had noticed her being increasingly anxious and withdrawn over the last couple weeks, but there seemed to be some sort of breaking point now. She sat in the living room, head in her hands, sobbing. Her shoulders were shaking with each ragged breath. Karen sat down next to her, placed an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close. Lindsey turned and pressed her face against Karen's shoulder and continued weeping. I slowly sat down on the other side of her and began gently rubbing her back. I couldn't help flashing back to many similar scenes during the dark times when we lost our parents. Neither of us spoke. We just stayed close. Letting her know that she was loved and that she wasn't alone.
Eventually she calmed down and pulled away from Karen's embrace. She wiped her eyes and looked up at us with embarrassment. Nobody likes to lose control in front of others, no matter how close you are. After a deep breath she told us the news. The bombshell that would soon change all of our lives. She was pregnant. She had suspected as much for two weeks, but it had just been confirmed. 100% positive. It was a shock, to be sure, but that wasn't the end of her news. She was definitely not planning for anything like this to happen, but she was actually excited and had come to terms with the idea. However, this afternoon she had broken the news to her boyfriend and he had a decidedly different reaction. For one thing he absolutely demanded that she have an abortion immediately. That option was not on the table as far as she was concerned. She wanted to keep the baby. He then resorted to threats, saying that he would deny his involvement. He even went as far as threatening to hurt her if she told anyone. She was devastated.
We were all stunned. We actually had liked this guy and thought he was a nice, honest, and reliable boyfriend. How things change. He told her he never wanted to see or hear from her again. At that point she began crying again and turned back to Karen, who held her and stroked her hair. This would be a difficult situation, but we would get through it together like we get through everything. She would probably have to delay college for at least a year, but that was okay. With all three of us living together in a house that was paid off, our expenses were low. Karena and I both worked and we would be able to provide for Lindsey during her pregnancy and take care of getting her set on a good path. We told her as much and even though the shock and sting of the day's events was still weighing heavily on her mind, she seemed to brighten.
Over the next few months things largely stayed the same. Our house had four bedrooms, so we decided to turn the fourth into the nursery. It was a surprisingly happy time for all of us. We felt like the family was having a baby, not just Lindsey. We talked about the future every night. This child would be so loved. Mom, Aunt, Uncle. It wasn't the most traditional home set up, but it was more than many had. We went shopping together for baby clothes, the crib, toys, books. We sat around reading book of baby names and arguing over our different favorites. Lindsey always had someone with her at the doctor, either Karen or myself. The doctors got to know us all and were incredibly supportive of our situation.
Things started to get a little more real at the eight month mark. Lindsey had always been a petite girl. At 18 when she got pregnant she was 5ft 2" inches and maybe 100lbs soaking wet. She had long blonde hair that fell past her shoulders and an tight, athletic build. Now, some eight months into her pregnancy she was a different person. She was gained about forty pounds, almost all of it was carried in her giant baby bump. Her breasts, that had started out as unassuming A cups, now had to be close to Ds. More than anything else, she looked extremely uncomfortable. Her back ached when she stood up or walked. She had trouble getting comfortable in any seated position. It was even hard for her to get out of bed in the morning. Karen and I helped as much as we could and tried to be as supportive as possible, but that was also getting harder, as she was getting increasingly irritable.
We were all hoping that the baby would come early. At 8 months she looked ready to pop. Day after day we prepared ourselves to to to the hospital. We were prepared to be wake up at all hours of the night. We knew this couldn't continue. Yet, despite all our best hopes and wishes, the pregnancy held out day after day, week after week. Once we reached the 9 month mark, Lindsey was comically large. She had taken to the habit of placing ice packs around her nipples because they were so sore and hyper sensitive. Her belly looked like a globe and watching her walk was like watching a globe try to walk. Her nerves were shot and she would flip from happy, to angry, to weepy and back. We all walked on eggshells around her and prayed for the end to come.
