Read Online Lost and Found: Finding Hope in the Detours of Life by T. D. Jakes, Sarah Jakes - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: T. D. Jakes, Sarah Jakes
Tags: Personal Growth, Religion & Spirituality, Biographies & Memoirs, Inspirational, Women, Christian Books & Bibles, Christian Living, REL012040, Specific Groups, Ethnic & National, African-American & Black, REL012070
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wanted to disappear. There I was, in front of thousands of people who must be wondering why my young face was standing with all the mothers.
I wasn’t even showing at the time, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that I was going to become someone’s mother soon. Eventually, rumors spread throughout the church that I was pregnant. The rumors turned to gossip when my expanding stomach could no longer be concealed. Even the staff who had watched me grow up had their own spin on my truth.
When the doctor placed me on bed rest a few months later, I was relieved I would no longer have to show my face at church. Carrying a facade is always more difficult than embracing the truth. I grew tired of holding it together for everyone observing me while falling apart on the inside. I didn’t want to look into disappointed eyes. My ears did not want to overhear “she’s the one who’s pregnant” when I walked by. I felt safe at home, protected.
———
I’m sure my pregnancy wasn’t the easiest time for my family, especially my parents, but even in their pain they covered me. I tiptoed around the house, aware my stomach was a painful reminder, but I wasn’t scared like I was at church. I knew that my parents and siblings loved me. I wasn’t sure how we would recover or what my future held, but I was okay here.
As my due date drew closer and the pregnancy became more difficult, like most expectant women, we kept a hospital bag packed and by the door just in case we needed to leave quickly. It seemed ironic that just as I finally began to accept that I was going to become a mother, my body began to threaten the growing life inside of me. I wondered if losing him would be my punishment. But I couldn’t bear the thought of not meeting the little person who was taking over my body. During that time I realized most women become a mother long before their water breaks. That connection doesn’t discriminate with age.
I knew that having a child as a teenager was not ideal, to say the least, but I still had the same excitement that any new mother wouldpossess. Nevertheless, I didn’t want my excitement to be perceived as being unremorseful, so I kept my feelings to myself. I tried to keep the swirl of mixed emotions inside me and focus on preparations for my soon-to-be new arrival.
Picking baby names, shopping for clothes, choosing strollers and baby bags . . . preparing was so much like playing with my baby doll as a little girl. Only now it was all real. With all the clothes folded and put away, a name selected, and painful kicks, I was being told to prepare for the worst.
———
I remember after a particularly stressful doctor’s appointment, my parents were having a meeting with their attorney about business. So I sat on the stairs of our home waiting for the meeting to conclude. Once I heard the doors open, I asked them all, my parents as well as their lawyer, if I could speak to them for a moment. Taken off guard by my request, they agreed.
Noticeably pregnant at this time, I received an anxious look from the lawyer, who had watched me grow up. I looked them in the eye and asked if we could sign some kind of paper work that would give my parents custody of my son in the event that I died. It was a sobering moment for them, but one I had been considering for quite some time. I knew my pregnancy was very high risk; I saw the look in the doctor’s eyes when my condition did not improve. I had read horror stories of girls my age having babies and bleeding out on the table. I didn’t know what would happen to my son if something happened to me, but I wanted to cover him before he was even born.
That’s when I knew I wouldn’t just be a girl who had a baby; I would be a mother. I would gladly sacrifice my life for his own.
They promised they would help me make whatever arrangements were necessary to ensure his safety and well-being. We would allmeet in the next week or so to finalize
I wasn’t even showing at the time, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that I was going to become someone’s mother soon. Eventually, rumors spread throughout the church that I was pregnant. The rumors turned to gossip when my expanding stomach could no longer be concealed. Even the staff who had watched me grow up had their own spin on my truth.
When the doctor placed me on bed rest a few months later, I was relieved I would no longer have to show my face at church. Carrying a facade is always more difficult than embracing the truth. I grew tired of holding it together for everyone observing me while falling apart on the inside. I didn’t want to look into disappointed eyes. My ears did not want to overhear “she’s the one who’s pregnant” when I walked by. I felt safe at home, protected.
———
I’m sure my pregnancy wasn’t the easiest time for my family, especially my parents, but even in their pain they covered me. I tiptoed around the house, aware my stomach was a painful reminder, but I wasn’t scared like I was at church. I knew that my parents and siblings loved me. I wasn’t sure how we would recover or what my future held, but I was okay here.
As my due date drew closer and the pregnancy became more difficult, like most expectant women, we kept a hospital bag packed and by the door just in case we needed to leave quickly. It seemed ironic that just as I finally began to accept that I was going to become a mother, my body began to threaten the growing life inside of me. I wondered if losing him would be my punishment. But I couldn’t bear the thought of not meeting the little person who was taking over my body. During that time I realized most women become a mother long before their water breaks. That connection doesn’t discriminate with age.
I knew that having a child as a teenager was not ideal, to say the least, but I still had the same excitement that any new mother wouldpossess. Nevertheless, I didn’t want my excitement to be perceived as being unremorseful, so I kept my feelings to myself. I tried to keep the swirl of mixed emotions inside me and focus on preparations for my soon-to-be new arrival.
Picking baby names, shopping for clothes, choosing strollers and baby bags . . . preparing was so much like playing with my baby doll as a little girl. Only now it was all real. With all the clothes folded and put away, a name selected, and painful kicks, I was being told to prepare for the worst.
———
I remember after a particularly stressful doctor’s appointment, my parents were having a meeting with their attorney about business. So I sat on the stairs of our home waiting for the meeting to conclude. Once I heard the doors open, I asked them all, my parents as well as their lawyer, if I could speak to them for a moment. Taken off guard by my request, they agreed.
Noticeably pregnant at this time, I received an anxious look from the lawyer, who had watched me grow up. I looked them in the eye and asked if we could sign some kind of paper work that would give my parents custody of my son in the event that I died. It was a sobering moment for them, but one I had been considering for quite some time. I knew my pregnancy was very high risk; I saw the look in the doctor’s eyes when my condition did not improve. I had read horror stories of girls my age having babies and bleeding out on the table. I didn’t know what would happen to my son if something happened to me, but I wanted to cover him before he was even born.
That’s when I knew I wouldn’t just be a girl who had a baby; I would be a mother. I would gladly sacrifice my life for his own.
They promised they would help me make whatever arrangements were necessary to ensure his safety and well-being. We would allmeet in the next week or so to finalize
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