Close to Perfect

            You know, I could’ve been this normal teenager. You know the ones that get to hang out with friends, have a social life or better yet sneak out and act wild without any responsibilities or worries. Well let’s not get ahead of ourselves just yet. I was turning 17 years old, attending junior year at “47” The American Sign Language and English School and just finished a year of probation. I was accused of shit that I didn’t do. I hung out with a crowd who was beyond under the influence. Shit imagine these 14-year-olds tried burning down a school with vegetable oil and some little wooden matches and I had to get blamed over this dumb shit. Only because I was friends with them. Of course, we were minorities, so we were easily targeted. While things at that time seem perfect to everyone else, deep down things were just falling apart slowly. Materialistic shit never meant nothing to me if it meant I was still empty and lonely inside. I had a home, both parents, a step-father, little brother and sisters and even a nephew but I still felt lonely and that void was following me everywhere I went. I felt like this cloud kept raining on me and it followed me every step of the way or a dark shadow was just looking over me to see how far I went or how close I was to failing so it could just sit there and laugh at me.

            I had a lot of therapy sessions to overcome a lot of things such as the death of my brother who was murdered and again over dumb shit. I was tired of the gun violence after one was used to murder my brother, other reasons was because I had to be a mother to kids that weren’t even mine, I had to grow up so my mom can work every day after I came home from school. These little “crisis therapy session” ain’t help for shit and damn sure didn’t help with my depression. I didn’t understand why my mom said shit like “You going to pay one day when you have kids.” or “They ain’t your friends, they just using you.” or did the things she did such as take my phone or restrict the time I even got to step foot outside. I used to think it was because she was against me. At that time, it was winter break and all I could wish for Christmas is just for someone to love me back the way I could love them. I met my husband back in 2009 but through social media. It wasn’t until December 2013 when we made it official to “link” when in reality it was for “Netflix and chill.” Shit went left and next thing I knew was that we were laying naked and had unprotected sex. My birthday passes by and we ain’t talk no more. I thought my wishes came true because the timing wasn’t perfect, but it was to me. Exactly two days later after I turned 17 years old, my little sister entered the world and it was a beautiful experience to be able to share a moment where a life had made her entrance to the world. I was able to cut the umbilical cord and it was so stiff and hard to cut through, I was scared to even get close to her belly button. When I held her, in my eyes, she was perfect and that is when I thought my wish of someone loving me back had come true and she was that someone. I tried reaching out to Jay but he wasn’t up for a conversation so I dubbed him and kept it moving. On the bright side, my baby sister came home three days later, and I was ready to help my mom with everything she needed me to help with. But I started realizing things were off. I was late and it wasn’t for school. I was nauseous and it wasn’t because I had a full stomach or because I was getting a stomach virus or bug. I would yawn once I laid on my comfy bed and got so sleepy, and it wasn’t because I had a full day of school and worked in an afterschool full of six and seven years old who were full of energy. But I was in denial, and I was ignoring all the signs and symptoms. I know what I did but I thought it was impossible. I remembered the times my mother had reminded me of being careful and safe but still I said it couldn’t be. On February 6, 2014, while my mom kept nagging me of finding out, my conscience was telling me she was overreacting. After school was over but before I went to work, I had stopped by a nearby Duane Reade. 

            I didn’t know my life was about to change and turn upside down. I went down each aisle just looking for it. Thoughts going through my head, consequences playing out in my head. But I kept my calm. I found it. “Well at Walgreens. Early Result. Test 5 days sooner. Results in just 2 minutes. Two tests.” My heart starts racing, my hands get cold but start sweating, my face turns red and it looks as if I put a whole bunch of rosy blush, I feel my chest getting tighter, it is getting a little hot in here yet it was winter time. I wait on line and I am next. I start feeling the embarrassment coming through. “Next!” the lady at the register yells. I slowly approach, very hesitant to even walk up because I am only 17 years old and the fact that I will be judged and viewed a certain way but I kept my calm, and my head held high because no matter the outcome, I knew things were going to be okay. She scans it, “Your total is $16.78” she said. “Thank you” I replied with a scared and cracked voice. My conscience was screaming at how expensive a test can be and it only brings two. I make my way back to school to get ready for work. I step to the bathroom and change into my uniform. 

I open the Duane Reade bag, I open the box and take one test and the instructions out. “Pee on it for 5 seconds and place it on a flat surface. Results ready in 2 minutes.” I did as the instructions said. While putting away the box, test, and instruction, so many mixed emotions started hitting me all at once. It felt like a big slap in my face. I didn’t know whether to jump for joy, sit in a corner and let the tears run down, going around with a shitty attitude but all I knew is that I had to come up with a plan. I look over with my head facing the ceiling just praying it wasn’t it. I close my eyes and before I reveal it to my eyes, I inhaled through my nose, filing my lower longs feeling my stomach expand while my upper chest stood still. I exhaled and opened my eyes, looked down and all I read was two blue lines. I went back to read the instructions because I had skipped that part. “One Line=Not Pregnant, Two Lines=Pregnant.” I Facetimed Jay, and he reacted normal. He seem a bit excited and we had planned to meet that night after I came out of work. After I hung up, I didn’t know how to feel.

            I felt the world slowly crashing down, I felt my heart racing fast, I tears while I smirked and all that came through my head was my mother’s voice, “Take care of yourself, be safe.” I washed my hands, wet my face with water and looked myself in the mirror and I saw myself different. I smiled. This was the final piece to my puzzle but a start to a new chapter. I walked out and made my way upstairs and headed to the kid’s gym to work and went about my day. I got on the train and made my way to meet up Jay. I was underground but he was ready to meet me to talk in person. As soon as the 4 train approaches to 161-Yankee Stadium, he had text me saying a bunch of shit. “Why you trynna trap me? I am too fucking young! Bitch you are bugging the fuck out! You better do an abortion. I am not ready for this shit!” I tried calling him and he ignored all my calls. As soon as I got home, I knew my mother was about to talk her shit and say she wants me out of the house. I was just ready for the yelling, the screaming and the chaos that was about to go down. I knew what I got myself into. When I got home, I went straight to my room, laid in the dark and it hit me. I was too young, too immature, without a stable income, would I even be a good mom? So many things and questions just coming to me hitting me at once, I crawled under the covers, curled into a ball and cried but more so because he fucking disrespected me when HE ALSO DIDN’T USE PROTECTION. My eyes were puffy, eyes were red, my head hurt as bad as a migraine. I was scared on how the situation was going to be handled by my mom. Next day, I woke up and Jay had texted me asking to meet up. It was my baby brother’s birthday so I went to go buy McDonald’s breakfast. I didn’t go to school that day. I was stressed the fuck out. Before leaving to buy breakfast, my mom asked me what is going to be the plan, who’s the dad, does he have a job, is he willing to care for me and the baby, can I move in with him, and I sat there with no answers because he didn’t want to be a part of it. I just shrugged cause I had nothing else to say.

I met up Jay on Burnside ave and Grand Concourse. We walked to the Mount Eden Ave and Jerome Ave McDonalds. *Awkward Silence* “So what you trying to do?” he asked. “Keep this baby and be responsible. What the fuck else can I do?” I replied. “Are you dumb? I don’t want the baby. Shit I don’t even want to be with you. I am too young for a kid and then I gotta care for you too. You tripping!” he said. “Well next time use protection, obviously babies will be made if no condom is used.” I replied. He then had the nerve to tell me “Listen, do an abortion and leave me the fuck alone.” I replied “Man move the fuck on. I got this. I don’t need you.” I walked away with tears and held my head high. 2 months later, I was turning 19 weeks. Haven’t heard from him. But shit I expected that. I wasn’t surprised. But by this time, I learned that the little tingles that felt like butterflies was a healthy baby boy who was going to be due around September 26, 2014. They gave me a picture of his ultrasound and how happy I was with life. I tried to get in contact with Jay, but he blocked me so that was the last thing I ever tried to do. But in my heart, in my life, things felt so close to perfect and right. Every night, I started praying and thanked God for blessing me with him. I had a reason to live and who to do it for. I walked down the halls of school with everyone talking about me, whispering while I walk down the steps, stares at my little bump that was starting to form into a shape of a little basketball, rumors of how I was going to drop out of school and gossip of me being a single young teen mom to be and yet nothing intimidated me. Those grades that I tried my best at turned into my name making it to the “Honor Roll Wall”, friends who were there for me turned into two good friends who had my back and until this day are more like family, those parents I have, well they became my support system regardless of what my situation.

          I finally turned 38 weeks, I started my senior year, I had 6 credits missing and a global regent to pass and time was close by. I had to get out of school to rest until his arrival. Did any last-minute shopping, had a surprise baby shower, and was able to do all my assignments at home for school. Jay wrote me on September 19, 2014. He asked to be there but also wanted a DNA to prove my son was biologically his. I was fucking mad. How the fuck can you question 2 weeks of unprotected sex and not expect me to get pregnant. I asked to meet up. He actually came over my house. Things started to work out from that day on. September 26, 2014 comes, and he wasn’t here yet. The next few days which felt like a lifetime, passes by and I did everything from squats, to dancing, to drinking teas and eating spicy food and nothing worked. I just wanted to meet him. Jay was anxious to meet his first child and being that he was his first and boy made him feel proud. We became impatient. September 28, 2014, we had a surprise baby shower. He knew but I didn’t. I wanted to cry because for so long I didn’t wanna have a baby shower. But they made it him. Thanks sis, thanks baby. I felt happy and blessed because I was able to celebrate a new life that was soon gonna make his entrance into this ugly world. At 41 weeks, he decided it was time to make his big arrival. I got contractions. They hurt like a bitch. My sister and Jay grabbed me by each arm, rushed me to the hospital walking. They made me walk up the steps to the 6th floor and admitted me. We were beyond excited. They broke my water. I was 10 cm dilated. 2 hours in labor, 31 minutes delivery and we welcomed Josiah Rey Nunez. He was 21 inches long, 8 lbs and 5 oz, born at 10:31 pm on a friday night. The moment I heard his cry, I cried. When I held him, I finally knew what it meant to be a mom, what it meant to be overprotective, what it was to finally LIVE. I kissed him while he was covered in blood, fluids, but nothing compared to finally holding him. When I laid eyes on him, every feature seemed so close to perfect. A full head of hair, ten toes, ten fingers, perfect heart rate, healthy, and most of all, he was mine. Josiah didn’t stop crying, but when Jay held him, he whispered to him “Daddy is here baby. Daddy got you. Don’t worry baby, don’t cry. Daddy is here.” And tears came down Jay’s face and mine and with that, Josiah stopped crying. 9 months before that day, I wished for almost a year before he was born, I wished him for Christmas and for my Birthday and it felt like a dream. I couldn’t believe he was really here. Fast forward to now, I married Jay, and we welcomed our baby girl in December 28, 2017. I always get asked, if I can go back and do it over again at that age, being 17, in high school, pregnant, if I would. And I simply answer, 110% times I would. Yeah, I could’ve been this normal teenager who can hang out, have a social life, get mani’s and pedi’s, hair and eyesbrows did, but I chose diapers, bottles, and sleepless nights with a little man to cuddle with. This is my close to perfect.