One of the deepest involvements in life is hearing the heartbeat of your unborn child. It was both pretty and terrifying to me at the same time. However, this is a story of development, improvement, and how God can turn even our most confusing moments into something worthwhile rather than one of disaster.
A year after I move up from high school, I became betrothed to my high school darling. Despite the ups and downs in our association, we had big dreams and envisioned to pursue them together. I proposed a future full of promise and a romantic winter wedding. Instead, there were unexpected changes that winter.
We got engaged. On April 5th, a few months later, we learnt that I was pregnant. I was just 19. A burst of emotions and belvederes followed that statement, ranging from anxious support to dissatisfaction and even references that we end the pregnancy. Some demanded that my life was over and that I had demolished my future. However, I knew in my heart that I couldn’t have an abortion or be under care. I was brought up to put in a lot of hard work, honor my word, and make the most of every circumstance. I therefore made an untiring effort to do that.
Our families pushed for a quick wedding once the initial shock diminished. We had a little church rite on May 30th, a few weeks after I found out I was expectant. Although it wasn’t the wedding I had highlighted, it was still charming. The reception proposed my dream of a chocolate fondue fountain, and friends and family helped make the day unforgettable. We were confident and ready to begin our lives together in malice of the problems.
We took up house in a modest two-bedroom home. We were young, in love, and full of hope when he held me across the threshold. However, fear can cause love to hesitate, and things changed a few weeks after our marriage. My husband began incoming home either late or not at all. No one replied the phones. He left by June end.
Just before midnight one night, pregnant and scary, I called my mother to ask if I could return home. Neither my parents nor I unspoken what was going on. All I knew was that I was expecting a baby and that I had been unrestricted.
I began writing in a periodical for my unborn daughter as soon as I assured I would be doing this by myself. It began with a lot of turns of like I were sorry and that’s not how I planned to welcome my child and I had no idea what to do at all of which were escorted by apologies and doubt. However, as the months went by, my urgencies changed. I started making plans for the two of us, fantasizing about the upcoming, and setting goals. Making sure she never felt reviled or unwanted was my goal.
The heartbreak led us to the strongest path. I grew up with my daughter. We had been best friends, worked together to chase our dreams our goals. It wasn’t an easy voyage. Years of pessimism, identity crises, and excruciating epiphanies were all part of it. But God’s grace we overcome it all. We thrived now.
She is eleven years old now, and she is known of the reality of our circumstance. More importantly, she knows the influence of acts. There are many tough choices in life, and the effects immediately extend beyond our instant selves. Not everyone chooses the best option every time. Although, there is hope because God can re-assure broken start overs to deep love, healing, and improvement.
Now as I see back I can see how far we’ve come. I was a scared 19-year-old girl who had no idea how robust she would become or how close she would become to her offspring. Even though it began with sorrow and doubt, this journey turned out to be the most beautiful tale I have ever heard. One that proves that even when stories don’t start out the way we had hoped, God still creates the most astonishing tales.
