June 03, 2016
And there it was
All of my pride…
All of my dignity…
All of my self esteem…
Everything accumulated in a wet stain of embarrassment as I looked down and noticed that I’d began to uncontrollably soak through my clothes right in front of the board of judges. Yes, the girl who had JUST concluded her presentation on teen pregnancy prevention was standing slap in front of several prestigious community members with her water gradually breaking through her pants.
Come on Meisha. You have to move. Pull it together, baby. I know you are mortified right now but listen; you have to breathe at least. Meisha? .. Meisha?! Listen, it’s going to be okay. Please. Just move. Don’t just stand there. Okay stop looking down for reassurance. Yes, Meisha you wet your clothes but it’s natural. Let’s get to the front of the school so you can just meet mom and head to the hospital where you need to be. Forget these judges’ opinions. I’m sure they have seen more shocking things in their lives. Okay, so maybe they hadn’t ever seen a high school student go into labor before their eyes. Who cares though? At least Santana let you finish your presentation first. That was the goal, right? You are 9 months pregnant and you CHOSE to take this risk -- to continue on with your presentation. No, Meisha. Don’t you dare start dropping those tears right here. Don’t you dare regret staying for the sake of graduating. It was for you and Santana’s future, remember? It’s over baby girl. It’s over. The hard part of this all is over…
Tears stung my cheeks. This had to be all of the wrong that I had ever done in life coming back to haunt me in the form of full swing karma. Time stopped. I stood still in a trance of embarrassment for what felt like hours. I wanted badly for one of the judges to break their silence of shock or to even blink. I would’ve given anything for just one person in the room to move and remind me that time had not truly stopped. I needed someone to remind that this moment was real. Instead the entire room remained frozen. In my mind I felt that each one of them were holding back their hysterical laughter. I imagined them going home to their husbands and wives to tell them about the little, black girl who went into labor during her hypocritical presentation. I heard them making a mockery of me and seen them shaking their heads at me while pointing their fingers. Of course these visuals and assumptions were all truly a figment of my imagination. Yet and still, I quickly walked (my way of running at 9 months pregnant) out of the room in humiliation.
I’m sure I exaggerated the moment. In fact, I’m positive that the judges were not so cold to the point of no concern for my regard. What truly happened was that I was out the door in such a split second that I left no chance for any of them to offer assistance. I didn’t care if saw none of their faces again. I was embarrassed. Students lingered here and there in the hallways having completed their presentations already. Even more embarrassment bubbled inside of me as attempted to run past every student with my huge belly and noticeable pant stain.
Just take me now. God, why would you put me through this? I’ve done everything you asked. I know that I got pregnant, but haven’t I made it up to you, my mom, and everyone else? Didn’t I keep my grades up for the school year? Didn’t I sacrifice time with friends to prepare for this baby? Didn’t I get more involved with church? Didn’t I turn down college offers from schools that were far away just to attend a closer college in order to be an involved mom? I don’t even want to go to UNC-Charlotte. I’ve given up a lot God. Why aren’t you giving me a break yet? Why am I being punished?
I don’t think I’d ever been so happy to see my mom. I never wanted to see the school again. She had been patiently waiting in her car outside of the school to drive me to the hospital. I got in the car with the foulest attitude. Being publicly mortified slowly turned into resentment. Where was Santana’s father when I was going through all of this? In that moment, I was close to the feeling of hate for his father. He was living life easy, breezy and carelessly while I was risking my child’s delivery trying to conquer an academic milestone. It just wasn’t fair.
“Hey baby! You ready?” my mom exclaimed. Her excitement was such a stark contrast to when she first found out I was pregnant. I guess time had healed her disappointed heart…plus this was her first grand baby – her “Nuk.” Yes, she had already given him a nickname and here I was still trying to process the thought of having another little human being call me “mom”.
“Did you call them to let them know you’re going into labor?
Do you know what I just went through by MYSELF lady?
“For wh... Not yet”
Why should I even care if they come or not? Well, maybe this is all he needs to wake up and finally smell the damn coffee. Maybe he will cut down on hanging out so much and actually finish high school. I can’t believe he’s really not graduating with me. He’s not the same person I met -- a goof ball, school going, basketball playing guy. He has a two parent household (something I’ve never had). His parents own their own company (something I’ve never witnessed in my family). He actually lives in a HOUSE for crying out loud (while I’ve lived in an apartment majority of my life). What reason did he have not to graduate high school when I made it through WITH a baby? I can’t give up hope yet though, right? Plus guys mature slower. Yes, that’s it. Duh Meisha! You’ve been over thinking every situation all along. He will be a great dad. He’s having a son. What guy wouldn’t be excited to see their own son -- their own creation? You’re just hormonal. Girl, call him!
Ring. Ring. Ring.
“The person you have reached has a voicemail that has not been setup...” – Operator.