As I continue my story, it’s time to share a piece directly from my book about my unplanned pregnancy which I dealt with when I was nineteen years old. The title is God and Your Pillow because those are the only two who really knew all of my heart, soul, and mind during this difficult time.
My last post shared what got me to finally make the hardest thing I’ve ever had to make: a phone call.
Ring, ring. Ring, ring. Ring, ri…
It was him. It hit me hard.It’s him.
“Hello.”Does he recognize my voice?“Is this Greg?”
“Yes, it is. Is this Marianne?” I could tell from his tone of voice that he was surprised.
“Yes, it is.”
“Oh. Well, hello.”
Should I talk about the weather for a spell? No.
“If you’re wondering why I’m calling, I’m, I’m calling to let you know I’m pregnant and that the the baby is yours.
“You’re . . . pregnant?”
A little space between those words.
Silence. I knew I needed to allow him a little time to breathe and come out of shock, but finally I had to say something. I said, a bit slower than normal, “So, what are you thinking?”
His answer showed that he didn’t know what in the world to think.
I was rather bold, and told him right up front that an abortion was not an option. I could tell he was disappointed, but thankfully he didn’t make a big deal about that decision.A sudden trap, I’m sure he felt.
We ended the talk by agreeing to go through this together, but that he would wait to hear from me on what I decided to do. I was a bit sad that there was no bold, mature, adult response like, “No matter what, I’m right by your side and will aim at making this the best thing for us both. I love you and will do anything that’s best for our baby. I’m eager to meet your parents, to show them I will take care of us all.”
Instead, he had a more of a “oh, we’ll just do whatever” attitude. All I could really do was just tell myself that it was better he be that way than have some selfish, mean, I don’t care attitude. He agreed it was his responsibility to do something, even if it meant we would get married and keep the baby.
Me? Getting married? Now? I knew I didn’t want to decide right then over the phone, so I told him I’d get back with him in a few days. I hung up, telling myself the talk went pretty well. But I also found myself needing to find something good out of everything lately.
After hanging up the phone, I felt like hiding from the world for a while. My thoughts of deciding what to do had begun, but they were too hard to share with anyone.
I could give the baby up for adoption and have no connection with Greg; have the baby and not get married; or have the baby and get married. I didn’t want to hear from anyone right then and I didn’t feel like deciding. I just wanted God to tell me.
Why am I sharing this particular part from God and My Pillow? To make up for not including more in my blog of what followed with Greg. It’s better to wait to read what I like to call the soap-opera part of my book. I feel it’s best for my book to show how God carried me through this entire ordeal, from beginning to end, with this young man.
My story is written to help readers understand how God may decide to put you through your own soap opera, one you’re not sure you can survive. I want to show you He can, and will, get you through it, holding you tightly and never letting go.