Life Interrupted by Kristen Kehoe

into the parking lot, I turn and smile.  “Plans this weekend?”
    “Well, now that I know I won’t be giving you my time, I have a bio project due on Monday.  Something about genetics a nd dominate genes.  I don’t know, this class is a lot harder than I thought and it’s making me rethink my science major.”
    “Isn’t that funny ?  My mom’s the head of the biology department at the university.  I can put a good word in for you if you want.”
    His eyes widen.  “Doctor Conti?”
    “Do you know her?” I ask, though it’s obvious from his face that he does.
                  “You’re Dr. C’s daughter?” I nod.  “Youngest daughter?” he asks and I nod, but it’s small because I know what’s coming next.  My mother is full of stories, full of anecdotes, and if this kid is taking her intro to bio courses, there is surely one thing he’s heard from her.  He swallows, his face a little pale.  “So you’re the one who has a daughter of her own?”
                  I clear my throat.  “Guilty.”  And then I look up at him and try a smile.  “So, is this going into the negative column?”
    ~
    When you find yourself sixteen and pregnant, there aren’t really any certainties in your life.  All of a sudden, everything you knew your future held (and let’s face it, at sixteen, you know you’re going to be rich and famous the minute your teachers and parents stop holding you back) is no longer true, and you’re sitting there wondering what the hell you’ve done to yourself. 
    After I told my mom and Stacy and Coach what was happening and what my decision was, all I could feel was relief.  No one had barred me from their life (save Marcus and we all know that was a gift), no one had made me feel like I was a horrible person, though I think Coach might have cried a few times when I passed him in the hallway.
    Bottom line : when it was all said and done, I still had everyone important to me, even Tripp, who had been there the most because he knew when everyone else didn’t, so everything was good.  But then it wasn’t, and I couldn’t figure out why.  At first, I just attributed it to the fact that I was young, and being in high school made me view impending motherhood with a different set of glasses than other women.  Which was true, but not the whole truth.  The whole truth was that I was resigned about my decision to have the baby and as much as people say they understand what you’re going through, the fact is that they don’t. 
    My mother was the closest to understanding in terms of the unexpected pregnancy, but when she found out about Stacy she was in her thirties and decided to marry her baby daddy, whereas I was sixteen and hoping to never see the guy who impregnated me again(unless it was hooked up to the electric chair or another torturous device). 
    Something about making the decision to have Gracie was so final, so absolute that when the relief wore off, it was replaced with a myriad of emotions, none of which were familiar.  Since nothing I was feeling or doing was familiar, I started sinking, and I started sinking hard.  After I quit volleyball, I also stopped going to anything that related to it.  I didn’t watch the team play, didn’t read the sport’s page when they made it to the state finals, didn’t even call Katie to mourn with her when they lost.  As everything in my life got bigger, me included, everything around me just got smaller, less significant.  And as much as I would say it was because I was focused on having the baby, the truth was that I was mad.  Angry.  Regretting my decision.
                  After Gracie was born, the feelings only got larger, more persistent, more overwhelming until I wanted nothing more than to shut my eyes and close myself off from them, from her, from everything until I felt nothing.  I’ve never been a sad person, never been someone who felt weighted down or burdened by the