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I bob my head, dreading what more she has to say.
Instead, Mom’s mouth promptly closes and her shoulders slump. The anger leaves her gaze and I watch her take the last few steps toward me. She plops herself next to me and releases a long, exhausted sigh.
“What happened?”
“Preeclampsia is what happened,” I say with a shrug. “I was in the hospital for a few days. The doctors needed to monitor my blood pressure.”
“I’m assuming it dropped since you’re home now.”
I nod. “I was released today.” I sniff and wipe the tears from my eyes. “It was so scary, Mom. I was so worried I was going to lose the baby.”
Mom doesn’t say anything, which makes me wonder if she would have preferred that scenario. I don’t ask, for fear of knowing the truth. She seems so unhappy about me being pregnant. I always thought she wanted to be a grandma, but maybe this is too soon for her. Maybe she was considering having another family with Bryan, and now she has to deal with the prospect of becoming a grandmother. Deep down, I think I knew she was going to be like this. That’s probably why I didn’t tell her. I didn’t want to deal with this pain of her being so upset about the baby, when it should be a happy time.
Despite that, I inhale deeply, getting the last bit of strength within me to say, “We’re having a girl.”
I smile when Mom turns toward me, but there’s no kindness in her eyes. “We?” she asks bitterly. “You and which boy?”
I bristle at that.
Mom smirks and shakes her head. “You don’t know, do you?”
I blink away the tears. Don’t cry, I repeat in my head like a mantra. I am happy about the baby, I tell myself. I am happy about the little girl we are bringing into our family. If Mom isn’t happy, that’s her problem.
“Do you?” Mom repeats with emphasis.
“No, I don’t,” I say numbly.
Mom scoffs and shakes her head. “Of course, you don’t.”
“And what’s that supposed to mean?"
“It means you are fucking around with all of these boys without a clue of what you’re going to do with your life and what kind of person you’re going to be.” Mom rises from the bed and steps in front of me, planting her hands on her hips. “You are too young to be a mother, Rachel. You can’t even decide which guy you want to be with. Hell! You don’t even know who the father is!”
“That doesn’t matter,” I say, my face heating. My hands fist in my lap while I scowl up at her. “What matters is that we have a healthy baby girl. And yes, I know I still have college to finish, but I’m going to do it. I’m going to get my bachelors. It just may take a bit more time.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “You really are so gullible. You won’t finish school. Not with a baby around. Do you even know all the care that goes into becoming a mother?”
“No, but I’ll learn.”
Mom laughs and shakes her head.
“Well, I’m sure if you can do it, I can do it too,” I say angrily.
Mom’s laughter dissipates and her gaze hardens on me. She juts a finger in my face and says sternly, “You need to do the right thing and give that child up for adoption.”
“How is that the right thing?” I ask while pushing myself up from the bed.
There’s no way I’m going to sit here and let her scold me like I’m still twelve years old. I’m a grown woman and I’ve made up my mind. I’m keeping my baby and Mom is either going to have to accept that or learn to live with it.
“People love babies,” Mom says flippantly. “I’m sure there’s some middle-aged woman dying for a little girl to call her own.”
“Or she gets stuck in the system!” I shout. “And there’s no way I’m giving my child up for adoption. I’m keeping her. She’s a wanted, loved baby and I will never give her up.”
“You’re being delusional, Rachel. You can’t possibly become a mother at your age. And I’m not going to bail you out when you need money.”
“I never asked you for any help!” I’m nearly screaming. How dare she say this to me. She only found out now that I’m pregnant and she wants me to get rid of my baby. Doesn’t she realize that this is precisely the reason why I didn’t tell her I was pregnant in the first place? Doesn’t she realize our relationship is crumbling because she’s thinking only of what she wants for me? She doesn’t even see or know that I am happy about the child. She doesn’t want to believe it. And there is no way I am going to let her convince me that I am not thinking clearly. For once, I am. I want this child and I will never send her away, even if it is the easiest thing to do. Easy isn’t always the right thing.
