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spoke ill of her. He helped me to understand that she had her own demons shadowing her and reminded me that it was not my fault. He taught me to put my best foot forward, even if that meant letting go of the person dragging me down. He was the one person I felt wouldn’t judge me, but despite that (or maybe because of it) Mr. Koser was the last person I wanted to find out that I was pregnant.
    For months I avoided his hallway, hoping if he didn’t see me he wouldn’t find out the truth. I even begged friends who were in his class not to whisper a word about my pregnancy around him. Although part of me knew he would find out eventually, especially when all you had to do was look at me to see I was pregnant, I did everything I could to put that moment off as long as possible. Failure had never been a worry of mine because I had nobody in my life to let down. Now for the first time, I knew the heaviness of disappointing someone I looked up to. I imagined him shaking his head at me and saying something like, “You’re better than this,” or, “You had such a bright future. How are you going to make it now?”
    By the time I had dug up enough courage to tell him, I was close to leaving school for the year. I was only a month away from giving birth so I didn’t have to say much to explain my situation. Rumors had reached his ears, despite my best attempts at keeping things hushed up. To my relief, Mr. Koser didn’t utter a negative word. He was one of the few people who still believed in me. I feared his disappointment more than my own mother’s, but I was wrong to worry. Mr. Koser reassured me I would get through every hurdle and obstacle in my way. To this day, he’s still in my life.
    ***
    With that behind me, I was able to move forward with my life. I had met with a school counselor and figured out a graduation plan. Since my last high school had required more credits, it turned out I had enough to finish the year early. I would graduate in January and walk with my class in May, after the baby was born. With high school now a part of the past and the extra stress of schoolwork and gossip behind me, I was able to focus on getting ready for the baby.
    The crazy, hyperactive days that followed weren’t enough to stop my mind from being consumed by doubt. I was still trying to convince myself that I was doing the right thing by raising a child at such a young age and sharing all of my struggles. Everyone in my life had strong opinions about what I should or shouldn’t be doing. The one person who made absolutely no sense to me then, but who I later realized actually had it right the whole time, was my grandmother. She just said, “You know, babies are born!” In her weird way she was pointing out that having a child is a just part of life and now that it was a fact in mine I just had to keep moving forward.
    My life wasn’t going to go back to the way it was even after my baby was born. My body might go back to the way it was (well it sort of would, with hard work), but from that moment on I would be responsible for another life. Oddly, that responsibility wasn’t as scary to me as it might be to others. What I was starting to realize was that this baby was going to give me a chance to have real family, to have someone who would never leave me.
    Despite the chaos and uncertainty of my circumstances, I was definitely starting to feel a deep maternal connection to my baby. I still wished I was at least a decade older, but the experience of being pregnant was so intense and magical nothing could prevent me from appreciating the beauty of it. The existential experience of having a life growing inside of me turned each individual kick into shock waves that I felt throughout my whole body. There is no relationship that can compare. It’s symbiotic. It’s unspoken love. I was never alone anymore. When Jo left me in the middle of the night or my mom wouldn’t speak to me, there was no endless emptiness. I had someone