I woke up sick, rolling over in bed was torture. Dizzily I sat up and sipped some warm water from the glass on my night stand. I immediately regretted it, grabbing my waste basket I threw up. “What did I eat last night that didn’t agree with me?” I muttered.
I had to get ready for work, so I rolled out of bed and pinned on my blue dress. I took the clips out of my black curly hair, I combed them and put them back into a neat bun and clipped them back up fastening my white covering in place I noted my face was almost as white. Scowling at myself in the mirror I grabbed my purse.
I walked downstairs into the kitchen and the smell of bacon hit me like a ton of bricks. I quickly went to the bathroom and washed my face with cold water trying to ignore how sick I felt. I told my mom I wasn’t hungry and sat on the porch to wait for my ride to work. That was the beginning, I did not know I was pregnant that long-ago morning. I thought I was sick from something I ate. I was never told how a woman gets pregnant. Pregnancy,sex and anything of that nature is taboo in Amish culture.
I was sick every morning for about a month, finally I told my mom how I felt because I was scared, she took me to a Dr and that is how I found out I was pregnant. My parents were pretty upset with me and my boyfriend. I was an embarrassment to my Amish community, I wore a pull over sweater to hide my pregnancy. I quit going to church once I started showing a little.
Seventeen and pregnant was not an easy title within this closed community. As the time drew near for the birth of our son I had no idea what was about to take place. Yes, I had gone to all my Dr visits and learned as much as I could from the papers he had given me about giving birth, but I still had limited information. There were no conversations with women of my community about it, no support group, nothing.
I had turned eighteen during the nine months, but it did not make me any more informed.
I kept working, cleaning houses until I was nine months. I will admit, I was very scared the night of April 1 1994 when I went into labor, I sat on my bed silent tears streaming down my face, waiting for the taxi to show up to go to the hospital. My mom told me she felt sorry for what I had to go through.
I picked up my overnight bag that was packed with a change of clothes and some baby clothing and walked out to the waiting taxi. The taxi drove to my boyfriend’s house and picked him up. We were two young, very scared Amish kids going to the hospital to have a baby by ourselves. No support from parents, just each other and as he tightly held my hand I felt some reassurance we would get through this . We had no idea the journey ahead of us… To Be continued