It all became a blur

I wish at this point of the story I could share my experience as I have been. I've taken the past week racking my brain of how I will take the story from here. But, as I've realized I really can't. I can tell you that the first day of my Junior year was awful. It was the first time I would be going to school without Matt, who had not left my side (in or out of school) for almost 2 years. I had gone almost the entire summer without speaking to my friends. ANY OF MY FRIENDS.

The first months were such a blur to me. I came in to school, and functioned in the most inconspicuous way I was able. As I walked through the halls I looked everywhere but at the faces of my peers.

I was so embarassed.

I just wanted to hide.

I really wanted to die. I figured if I had died, I never would have to face the judgment of the world...I can remember doing some really aweful things to myself. I did some really aweful things to my body. I still have the scars to show for those things. At one piont, I could remember conceiving a plan to remove myself from the picture (If you know what I mean). I still can't talk about it.

It's really amazing how the world moves on without you. By Christmas of that year I had not gained mych weight, but really, the signs of the pregnancy were there, if you looked for them. While I carried the baby high (so high actually, that I could actually feel the baby under my rib cage. It was painful.), there were definitly quite a few changes that had gone on with my body. But, as I had hoped, I really did blend in with the walls of the school. Sure, there were rumors, but not near what you'd expect. My friends gave up on me.

There was one day when Matt and I decided I should take a pregnancy test. It was one of those things I just knew, I didn't need a stick to pee on. But I took the test. It just rubbed it in, actually.

Throughout the pregnancy, I continued dancing, singing, and working in the high school auditorium. I did everything that I before I was pregnant. And, on a positive note, I actually was able to do the splits up until the very end! What can I say? When you have no other choice, you do whatever it takes.





I really wish I could share this part of the story further.

There's just so much I can't remember.

The Move

In the weeks prior to my family's summer vacation, Matt's parents had decided to place their home on the market. At the time, I wasn't too concerned, as they have been known to retract their rash decisions as quickly as they made them. Plus, I had bigger and better things to worry about...

The day my family returned from vacation, all I could think about was calling Matt. Afterall, he was the only one who knew my secret. From the day I told him my fear (I just had one of those feelings) he was absolutly supportive. At first he told me I shouldn't overreact, but as time went on we both knew the truth. He promised me from day one that he would not leave me alone.

The second I had come in the back door of the house, I made a beeline to the telephone. But, when I dialed the number there was a recorded message: "The number you are calling has been disconnected." I hung up and dialed again...And again...And again...
The message persisted.
I spent the rest of the afternoon in my room.

Where's Matt?

Why isn't his phone working?

Where is he?

Is this his way of breaking up with me?

I hopped on my bike and rode over to his house. The doors were locked, the shades were drawn, and no one was there.

I went back home and waited, phone in hand.





After dinner there was a knock at the door. There he was! Matt had driven over as soon as he was able. And, he told me that while I was gone, his parent's told him the house had sold and they would be moving. And they did, that quckly. They moved several miles away, and switched school districts, but Matt was adament that he wouldn't leave me. No matter what, he promised me that he wouldn't leave my side. It was difficult to accept the fact that he had moved from only 7 streets over, to more than 7 miles away, but I knew him, and I trusted him that he would never leave me. I knew he would always be here whenever I needed him.

But, as the days passed and our Junior year approached, it was apparent that Matt's family would not accept him staying at Lake Shore. While this argument was going on, I was on my way to a (LONG and VERY HOT) week of band camp. It was difficult to leave home, as sick as I had been all summer but that was a piece of cake compared to leaving the only person who knew what was happening. He had promised he wouldn't leave me in my time of need, and there I was: taking off a week, leaving him to fend for himself in the dispute against his parents.

The week I was at band camp was a true test of my strength. It was a week of strenuous activity, standing and marching in the hot sun for 8-10 hours a day. There was no air conditioning or fan in sight. And while we were fed and hydrated well, I was not able to consume anything for the first 2-6 hours on a given day. If I did, the chances of embarassing myself in front of the entire marching band and staff was quite high. Not to mention it wouldn't be long before I'd be forced to disclose "the secret". I got through the first hours of the day just as I did while I was on vacation. I would lay still as long as I could. Then, I would tell the other girls in the cabin that I'd be down for breakfast as soon as I finished in the shower. It was a great excuse the way I saw it, who wants to be the last of 10 teenage girls to take a shower? But, it bought me as long as I needed to let the majority of the sickness pass. Then, I'd join the rest of the girls at the breakast table...eating as little as I thought I could sustain myself.

I did alright considering I was running on fumes, so-to-speak.

But I was becomming so scared!

And, all I wanted to do was go home and be with Matt.

The family Vacation

After missing the entire week of dance camp, the following week was my family's vacation. My the day we left, the steroids had taken effect, and was no longer suffering the effects of the allergic reaction I had gotten from penicillian.

Too bad I cannot tell you I was physically back to my normal self.

I was stressed to the max, trying to figure out what I was going to do. I had been sick the entire morning, as my father packed the van for our trip to Traverse City. As my mother and father were packing up, and my brother was in the basement anxiously awaiting the "go ahead" to get in the car, I was in the upstairs bathroom. By this point, I had learned to wait to take a shower until I was sure I could not hold the sickness off anymore. The sound of the shower was a great way of muting the sounds comming from my body. And, if the shower had gone on too long, I would run the sink instead. The good thing about living in a 2 story house is that I was normally the only one upstairs... My mother and father had no idea what was going on up there.

I was so greatful that I actually made it the whole way to Traverse City successfully! I had (luckily) figured out that if I sat directly in the middle of the car, and looked ahead out the windshield, It helped with the motion sickness.

The vacation itself...well...I regret I can't say it was much of a vacation at all. My parents cottage is quite small, I shared a room with my little brother, and there was only ONE bathroom.

This meant I was going to have to be creative.

Each morning, I would stay in bed as long as I physically able to. (I seemed to be fine as long as I didn't move.) I told my parents things like "Oh, It's so nice to just rest!", and "Gosh! I'm really tired today!". The other problem I was having, was that the more I spoke, the sicker I felt. I also spent quite a bit of time just sleeping. My body was so tired it was sometimes difficult to even use the bathroom. And when I couldn't sleep and I felt ill, I would physically force myself to sleep until my head ached. Once my family had made it out of the cottage and to the beach (lucky for me, they left pretty early), I would get up and go about my morning ritual. I needed to be absolutly positive no one was around, in case the sickness struck. And, surely it did.
Every...single...day.

I did, however make it outside to the beach once the nausiousness had passed. And, it was really nice. Beautiful actually. Of course as life would have it, by the morning of day 3 of our vacation I found myself on a trip to the local hospital. Wouldn't you know the steroids the hospital had prescribed had a side effect of severe sun poisoning? Even with sunscreen?

My entire body. Scalp to the top of my feet was burned. Not just red, purple actually. The hospital called it "4th degree sun burn". Turns out, it's about as bad as a sunburn can become. And it happened over only a few hours! I was miserable. I was sick. I was tired. And, there was nothing that could be done about it.
I spent the rest of the week slathered in antibiotic ointment, frozen towels, and drinking water.

The family vacation was runined.

"It" Happened

As spring approached, along with it came long evenings of dress rehearsals, track meets, and band and choir concerts (May tends to be one of the busiest months of the school year for artists and athletes alike. And, Matt and I were both. I can remember as I was shopping for an outfit to wear for for the Women's Chorale Dance number, I felt a little apprehensive about buying something which may not fit right a week or two in the future. The past week or two I noticed a few mild changes in my body. Suddenly, somethings just didn't fit the way they used to...

May passed and into the summer we rolled! Matt and I were determined to have a GREAT summer. We were so relieved to have made it through the 2 years as "underclassmen"!! And, for both of us, we had busy and productive summer's ahead. Matt had decided to work full time (he's always enjoyed working), while continuing to practice for the next season's Cross Country team. And I had a full month of summer camps planned (The whole month of July, in fact): A week of "mini" band camp, one week of Dance Camp (I had been doing this since I was 8 years old. It had become a summertime tradition for me), One week of Show Choir Workshop, and a full week of Band Camp in Lexington. We were both so excited!

We spent every minute we could find to spend together. We knew that July would come, and we wouldn't be seeing much of eachother, with me being away most of the month. We spent hours at the park, we rode bikes, went for walks, and hung out at our parent's houses. We'd wake up early to see eachother before the day's plans, and we'd stay up late just so we could talk on the phone about our day's. I can't even tell you how many times one of us fell asleep on the phone! But we were in love, and were desperate for contact. We really couldn't get enough of one another!

The 1st of July came before we knew it, and I was packing my bags for a week of Dance Camp. The morning I was due to leave for camp I experienced the most overwhelming feeling of anxiety I had ever felt. My heart was racing, I was starting to sweat, my hands were shaking, and my stomach felt like a rock. It was a feeling I had never felt before and I didn't want to share with anyone. Meanwhile, my mother was yelling up the stairs "C'mon Beth, if we don't leave soon, we'll miss check in!". I didn't want to leave the house but I knew once I made it to camp, it would all be better. Maybe I was excited, afterall Dance Camp was one of the highlights of my entire year. So, I took a deep breath, threw my bags in the trunk, and away we went. On the car ride to Camp, the feelings of anxiousness didn't stop. And the rock I felt in my stomach had moved into my throat. In a split second, I told my mother to pull the car over. I was going to be sick, and couldn't control it anymore.

My mother insisted it was a nervous stomach and it would subside once I got to camp and settled in. But I knew it was more than that. I cried, and begged her to take me home. The deal was that if I really was "that sick", that my mother would take me home and would make me a doctors appointment. I can remember feeling such a sense of relief...The doctor would know what was "wrong" with me, and I could play stupid. I would let the doctor tell my mother that I was pregnant. What a disappointment it was for the doctor to diagnose the upset stomach as "drainage" from a sinus infection, and the anxiety as from "trouble breathing". She wrote me a prescription and sent me on my way.

My mother decided to keep me home until the following morning, just so the prescription could take effect. She made it clear that I would be going to Camp the following morning.

That night, the anxiety hadn't stopped. My heart was still pounding. I felt like the only solution to the problem was to run. It was a "fight or flight" instict. I can remember telling myself to calm down. I told myself that if I took enough of the prescription the doctor had prescribed, it would "take care" of them problem...That maybe I wouldn't b pregnant anymore. So I took the pills. Several of them...and went to sleep.

Only a few hours later I woke up feeling even more anxious that I had earlier, and irritable on top of that. My skin was scratchy, and I was having trouble breathing in a different sort of way than before. At this point, I felt like I needed to tell someone. I found my parents and told them, then we noticed I was breaking out in a rash. After a trip to the emergency room, and another disappointing visit (I had hoped, once again, that someone would diagnose "the problem" and tell my parents for me), I was sent home with a prescription for steroids to help clear up an allergic reaction to the pennicillian the doctor had prescribed earlier. These pills were going to be the answer! The steroids, for sure, would take care of the "problem" for me!! I felt such a sense of relief.

The next few days I was feeling back to my normal self.

Moving too Fast

Our sophmore year of high school was just like any other. Our days were spent at school, our afternoons and evenings were spent on extra-curricular activities, and Matt had an evening job. We were both in the Symphonic Band, I was involved in the Choirs and stage crew, Matt was training for track and cross-country. I was also taking dance classes (I have danced since I was 3 years old), which required 3 evenings every week.

Between all of our commitments, we didn't have much time to spend together. And, the little time we had seemed to pass too quickly.

I wish I had a better explination for our actions.

And, really to tell you truth, our "first time" really was special.

And, our "first time" really was "safe".

But, here's the thing: The first time we had sex was a life changing experience for both of us. Suddenly, we felt like there was a way to express the love we felt for oneanother. It was something we could do together. It was something that was only for us.

It was our little secret.

After several months, sex became more of a ritual, and as time passed, it became what I would consider a habbit. When we were together, just the two of us, we would "do it". It became so habitual, infact, that we were no longer thinking twice before our actions. Then, there were the different types of sex: boredom sex, forgivness sex, tension sex, angry sex, celebratory sex. You get the picture. It was with these types of sex that we started becomming negligent.

There were times when we were careful. And there were times when we were not.

It wasn't that we thought "it" would never happen to us. It just was that we never thought about "it" at all...

Young Love

Our first Valentines Day together was about as romantic as a Valentines Day could have been
(for 2 fourteen year olds! lol). Matt walked over to my parents home after dinner and we decided to go for a walk together. (My parent's felt very strongly that there was no need for a boy to be in the house. After all, how serious can it be when you're fourteen years old). I can remember how bitter cold it was, but I would have willingly frozen to death as long as I could be with Matt. While we were walking we talked about everything together. We talked about love, and our past, our future, and everything inbetween. How funny hindsight is: at the time I think we both knew we'd be together forever. After going for our walk, Matt gave me a rose and a stuffed animal (it was a little white polar bear holding a giant hershey kiss). He asked me (officially) to "go out with him".
I waited a few days until I was bursting at the seams to tell my parents that I had my first real boyfriend. I had contemplated for days how exactly I would share my great news with my mother.

Me: "Mom, guess what?"
Mom: "What?"
Me: "Matt asked me out a few days ago..."
Mom: "So where are you going to go?" (then she laughed under her breath)

At this point, I pretty much decided I would no longer be sharing any details of my social life with the woman who choose to make a joke of something that was so important to me at the time.

Days and weeks went on. Matt and I had our share of arguments, and even some doozies of fights, which at the time I'm sure seemed quite important. But for the most part, our lives became completly intertwined. We didn't spend everyday together, but we were sure to talk each and everynight on the phone until either the batteries died, or our parents forced us to hang up.

I will never forget our first kiss. It was the spring after we started dating. I was (and still am) a very modest girl. Not that I didn't want to kiss, but I didn't want anyone to see me kiss. So, I held off as long as I possibly could until one day on the way home from school, Matt skipped the turn onto my parent's street. I asked him where we were going. We walked only a few paces past the corner of the street, just out of sight of my parent's house when he turned to me, put his arms around me, and kissed me. Right on the lips. Then he told me he loved me. I didn't answer, but I knew deep inside I really did love him too.

By summer-time, much to my mother's surprise, we were still together, and closer than ever. We would go for long walks, ride our bikes, and sometimes if we were really in luck, our parent's would give us a few dollars and we would walk to the bowling alley. Our favorite thing of all was to just sit on the front porch of my parent's house and talk. We never really could run out of things to talk about.

The summer passed, and as school began , we started our first day of tenth grade together. Matt threw me a surprise 15th birthday party with all our friends and my mother, impressed with his efforts, began absolutly loving him! How funny that by the same time next year, I would be more than 1/2 way through an unplanned pregnancy!

Something I've been contemplating for quite some time is sharing my story. After the persistant urging from both old and new friends, I've decided to dive in.

A very special thank you to Morgan (who has a fantastic blog of her own), for her gentle suggestion to share my story not for myself, but for the thousands of girls out there searching for someone to reach out to. I, myself was one of those girls.

I guess to have a full understanding of the situation I need to start with me life pre-pregnancy, pre-sex, and probably even pre-relationship.



The Beginning
On the first day of 9th grade, my parents enrolled me in an "experimental" program which the school district began offering. The basic idea of the program was to integrate all the general education classes to basically "piggyback" oneanother. The goal was to establish a more liberal education and to increase understanding. For example: While we were reading Shakespeareon literature in English, we were learning about the Shakespeareon Era in History, and building a scale model of the Globe Theatre in Mathmatics. Anyway, what the school didn't think about was that the same group of students was taking the same classes together all day, without seperation other than the one or two electives we were enrolled in. As I walked into 1st period English class I was totally excited because I was fortunate enough to be enrolled in the program with my 3 best friends. At the same time I stepped toward them I also noticed they were sitting right next to someone I wasn't quite so excited to see...
There he was. Matt Schindler. The boy who sat behind me in band class through middle school. The boy who kicked my books under my chair every day. The boy who emptied his "spit" valve from his trombone on my chair just a few too many times. The boy who walked past my house every day after school and yelled things like "Hey Look! Beth Loomis has a condom on her front lawn!", when he saw a deflated balloon on the sidewalk in front of my parents home.
Of course, I was also squaking my clarinet in his ear and yelling "Look mom! That's Matt Schindler! He's the gay kid!" everytime he walked by my home.
I'm sure you can imagine how excited I was to find that we'd be spending the majority of our freshman year of high school together. Much less, to find my 3 best friends had chosen to sit next to him!
Over the next few weeks, my best friend and Matt started showing an interest in oneanother. And, I being the good friend that I was, decided to let go of my horrid feelings of him. Before I knew it, it was Halloween and my best friend and I decided to go out trick-or-treating for the very last time. I was dressed as a cat, in a black sweatshirt and sweatpants with fuzzy ears and a tail pinned to my pants. As I answered the door, I found my friend dressed as a (sexy little) fairy, wearing a skirt so short if the wind were to blow she would have exposed herself and a tube top, with sparky fairy wings and glitter all over her face. And, alongside her was Matt. "He didn't have anything to do tonight, so I invited him to come too!" she said.
At this point I had realized that maybe this guy wasn't so bad after all. Maybe he REALLY was just a nice guy who I needed to give a chance.
That evening while we were trick-or-treating, Matt asked my friend if she would be his girlfriend. At that moment, I felt the biggest surge of emotion I was certain I'd ever felt in my entire life. The rest of the evening I held myself together, walking behind them as far as I could, hoping they'd forget I was there altogether, until I was finally able to turn around and walk the other way back home. When I reached the front door, I walked straight up to my bedroom and cried. How could my best friend be his girlfriend? I was sopposed to be his girlfriend!!
Over the following months, Matt and I spoke every night on the phone. We walked to and from school together everyday, except for days when he had track or crosscountry practice. And, even those days became few and far between, as he started skipping those practices in order to walk me home from school and talk to me on front porch of my parent's house. After a totally draumatic argument between Matt and the girlfriend, Matt made it clear that he had chosen me, and I had chosen him. Needless to say, we weren't such great friends anymore! By Valentines Day of our freshman year, it had become official. Matt Schindler and Beth Loomis were boyfriend and girlfriend.