It's the Little Things

by Heather McConnaughy

We all think of turning points as the big things in life such as marriage, pregnancy, graduation, buying a home, or even getting our driver's license. But what about all those small things that shape our lives when we're not looking?

What about the times people ask us for advice on things that are important in their lives and we give it without second guessing ourselves? Or what about the times we look back at things that were once important and now just seem idiotic? Maybe it's that we've just stopped lying to ourselves.

Like everyone, I've had many events in my life that I know have shaped to me become who I am today, yet there are so many more little turning points that I never really seemed to notice until now. I changed from a child to an adult when I was finally able to be truthful with myself about my childhood, yet I still made childish mistakes that shaped the course of my life.

I was in my sophomore year of high school when I made the shift from child to adult. Instead of saying my dad was "mean," I was able to admit that he was "abusive." It took him giving me a concussion for the truth to finally sink in. Even then I felt I couldn't stand up for myself, which played out in my dating habits. I'd grab on to any boy who'd take me, as is common among abused young women.

I never cared much about my reputation. I always had a boyfriend and I was an outrageous flirt. The boys all thought I was "easy," but I liked to think of myself as a "look but don't touch" kind of girl. They could think about it all they wanted, but they were never going to get it.

Then I met Adam, the boy who brought about so many turning points in my life. Our relationship changed many things about me, both big and small. The funny thing is, he never even knew it.

We started dating at the beginning of our junior year of high school. Within a month we were "in love," or as in love as you can be when you're almost 17.

It wasn't long after my 17th birthday that we lost our virginity to each other. We'd had all those important talks about condoms and we'd played the "what-if" game, but at 17 who really thinks that anything can happen to them? Seventeen year olds are notorious for their attitude of invincibility.

I was so I love with Adam that I believed wholeheartedly that he loved me, and that he'd never lie to me or hurt me. I was wrong. It was all laid out before me on the night I lost my virginity to him. Something that should have been slow and soft and romantic wasn't. It was hard. It was rough. Most of all, it was degrading. I knew it was supposed to hurt, but I still wasn't prepared for the amount of pain, both physical and emotional.

Instead of being clumsy and shy, he was sure of himself--more sure than any virgin should be. At least one of us knows what we're doing, I lied to myself. That thought should have been a red flag waving in my face, proclaiming "STOP!!!" His obvious experience was clue number one that all was not well, but I didn't even see it until a year and a half later.

As the school year progressed, so did our sexual exploits and my desire to please him. I did things to him and allowed him to do things to me that I swore I'd never do. That was missed clue number two.

Then came Valentine's Day and shortly after that a pregnancy scare. Remember when I said we talked about condoms? Our talk didn't mean we actually used them. When I told him I thought I might be pregnant, he was there for me. He told me everything would be fine and that time it was. Since everything was hunky dory, we grew even bolder and stupider, because love is blind. And stupid. Very stupid.

When spring break rolled around, I convinced my parents to let Adam come stay with me at my Grandmother's house for two weeks. At this point, Adam and I couldn't get enough of each other. If I said "no" to something, he'd pull the oldest trick in the book. He'd look at me with those big eyes and say, "If you really loved me you'd do it." I was 17, stupid, and desperate to be loved. I did whatever he asked and did it without any type of protection.

Spring break was four days after my period, which made it the perfect time to conceive. Somehow that tasty little tidbit was left out of my eighth grade science/health class. I had to learn it on my own, the hard way.

This time when my period was late I kept quiet. The end of March came and went and then half of April. My clothes were starting to get a little tight and I was often queasy and sick. When I finally got up the nerve to tell someone about my suspicions, it wasn't Adam.

I told our mutual best friend, Jonathan. He tried to console me by reminding me that we'd had this problem before and I'd started a week later. I agreed, but then dropped the bombshell: I hadn't just missed one period but two, and number three wasn't far away. He urged me to wait before I did anything, just to make sure.

About a week later I called him in tears and he immediately knew what was wrong. He assured me everything would be fine, that Adam loved me and we'd figure out what to do. Boy was he ever wrong.

At lunch the next day, Jonathon sat with us just like every other day. When I told Adam that I was pregnant he was shocked. Then he looked at me and dropped his own bombshell, "It's not mine." I was astounded. When I asked him who else the father could possibly be, he just got up and walked away. That was clue number three.

As the school year came to an end, the decision was made for me to have an abortion. And yes, I mean made for me. My mom kept telling me it was the right thing to do and my dad was a ticking time bomb waiting to go off. Adam and his mom both kept telling me that an abortion was the best decision for all of us, because Adam was leaving for Colorado and wasn't going to be around to help me. Clue number four.

My mom took me down to the Public Aid office and signed me up for emergency medical insurance. Then it was off to some clinic where I had to sit in the waiting room and fill out page after page of forms. My mom was very interested in helping me fill them all out until I got to the one that asked my age when I first had sex. As soon as I wrote 17, I had about six more inches of space between us. My dad was positive I started at about 13 or 14, but I'm not sure what my mom believed.

After the forms were completed and a wall of ice had grown between my mother and it, it was off to the bathroom for a pregnancy test. Surprise, surprise, it was positive. The nurse asked me if I was being forced to have the abortion and, of course, I said "no". Did she really think I could say yes and get away with it? She handed me a bag of condoms and sent me on my way. All I could think was, "Don't ya think it's a little late now?"

After a while things settled down a bit. My parents were taking it well, but there was still one big problem. Where does a seventeen year old girl go to have an abortion? I wasn't getting any help in that direction from anyone, so I ended up talking to my English teacher about it. Clue number five: where was Adam? My English teacher whipped out a phone book and found a place right near the school. She used the school's phone to call the clinic so I could set up an appointment.

The next two weeks went in by in a flash and yet the time seemed to drag by. It was a strange span of time. The day of the appointment, my mom drove me in our old beat-up VW Beetle, with the door that wouldn't stay closed. When we arrived Adam and Jonathan were there waiting for me.

A nurse took me back into a little room to do an ultrasound to see how far along I really was. When she asked me if I wanted to know the gender, I just looked at my mom and said no even though in my heart I really wanted to know. I knew that if I found out the gender, I could never go through with the abortion. It would cease to be an "it" and become a little boy or girl.

The nurse informed me that they wouldn't be able to do the procedure that day because I was too far along. At just past 12 weeks, I had to be dilated with three seaweed sticks first. I'd have some minor cramping, like I was going to get my period. She told me to come back the next morning and everything would be fine. They gave me a prescription for pain medication and I was on my way.

When I told Adam and Jonathon the date of my next appointment, I was shocked by their responses. Adam told me that he wouldn't be there because he was leaving for Colorado in the morning. (Clue number six.) Jonathon said he'd try to be there.

My mom and I attempted to go to the pharmacy to pick up my prescription, but by the time we got there I was doubled over in pain. She took me home and went back to pick up the prescription herself. As soon as we got home I fell asleep didn't wake up until it was time to leave the next morning.

When we got to the clinic, I was still expecting to see Adam there. Of course he was a no show, yet Jonathon had taken the time to come and lend me support. He'd had to walk for hours to get to the clinic. He sat with me in a little cubicle with a dentist chair in it until it was time for me to go back for my procedure. I remember him holding my hand and laughing when I told him that if I ever saw Adam again I'd kill him. Looking back now, I know that Jonathan loved me more than Adam ever could and I didn't even see it.

Once they called me into the back room, things happened really fast. A nurse told me to undress from the waist down and lay on the table. She instructed me to put my feet in the stirrups and she covered me with a scratchy paper sheet. She told me they'd be giving me something to put me to sleep. When she left the room to get the doctor, I looked around. I saw a big machine in the corner. It looked like a big red Hoover vacuum with a clear canister with a dome lid and a tube up the middle of it. The image haunts me.

When the doctor came in the room he told me they were just about ready, but he had a few questions first. I remember him asking me my name and smiling at me as I tried to tell him. The last thing I remembered was thinking that there were two men in the room who were going to "see me." I felt so embarrassed.

The next thing I knew, the nurse was telling me she'd put a pad in my panties and I had to walk to another room. I sat in another dentist chair and slept while my mom and Jonathon watched me. Later a nurse woke me up and told me it was time to go because they needed the room for someone else. She told my mom that I might be a little nauseous and she wasn't lying. I went outside, took two steps, and proceeded to vomit. At least I had one of those little pink kidney shaped cups.

Once we got to the car, Jonathon held me up while my mom unlocked the door. They managed to get me into the back seat, and I heard my mom tell Jonathon that she'd take him home, but that she had to go by Adam's mom's first to let her know I was okay. At that point, I passed out.

They did manage to wake me up so Adam's mom could talk to me. I told her the same thing I'd told Jonathon: that if I saw Adam, I'd kill him. She just laughed and walked away. Next thing I knew I was home and my mom was trying to get me to the bathroom so I could throw up again. Then it was to the couch with strict orders not to move. If I had to get up, I was to call my dad and he would help me. I thought to myself, "Sure, like I'm going to let my dad help me to the bathroom." He did try to help me, but I was stubborn and made my way to the bathroom by crawling.

After that it was two weeks of strict pill taking. I had to follow a schedule exactly or I couldn't eat. After about a week, summer school started and I was surrounded by people who knew that I had been pregnant. Luckily they believed the story that I'd miscarried, and my Government teacher didn't ask what pills I was taking. I don't think he would've been too happy knowing that I was taking Tylenol with codeine on school premises. Or that the reason I wasn't a very enthusiastic student was that I'd murdered my baby.

I made it through summer school and my senior year began right where my junior year left off. Adam still hadn't come back from Colorado, so Jonathon and I started to date. I finally had a boy who loved me.

That didn't last long, because a few weeks later Adam came back from Colorado. Jonathan was Adam's best friend and let me go back to him. I can't really explain why I went back to Adam. I guess I really thought we were meant to be together. I can only say I felt like one of those toy dogs on a string. My will was not my own. Everything went right back to the way it was with Adam, except that I refused to have sex without protection.

A little after New Year's, my dad asked me if Adam and I were still having sex. When I told him yes, but that we were using protection, he didn't say much. I think he expected me to lie to him and say no. Even if I hadn't been, he would have thought we were so why not be honest? I didn't live with my parents much longer after that.

My dad kicked me out of the house the week before Valentine's Day. I moved in with my Grandmother and Adam and I did the long distance thing. We kept dating until a little after Easter. I spent the Easter holiday with his family and I started to see that I wasn't anything but a toy for him to play with.

I told Adam we shouldn't be together and he agreed at first, but then he made me feel like we were made for each other and that I'd never be anyone without him. He convinced me to stay with him, but I started talking to other guys.

That's when Adam blew it. He said that I wasn't allowed to talk to other guys because I was his girlfriend. That ended it right there, but even though I was finally free from Adam, I still had another turning point to go through before I could find happiness.

After Adam there was Jeremy. Jeremy was the biggest mistake a girl could ever make, but I was 18 and I wanted to piss off my parents. Jeremy was 20. He smoked, drank, and had been to jail. He was the perfect guy to be around. We kissed a lot but I wouldn't do anything else. I went to a family barbecue with him and I knew that I really didn't want to be around them either. His family kept trying to get me drunk and kept telling him to show me around the house or to show me the barn or any place where we could have some privacy. They really expected me to have sex with him at the barbecue! What kind of family does that? When we finally left to go home, I laid my head down in his lap in the car and pretended to be asleep. While he and his parents talked about how serious we were, I was praying that we wouldn't get in an accident. I was the only sober one in the car, and I was pretending to be asleep. After the barbecue, Jeremy wanted to be around me even more but I wanted to be far, far way from him.

Then God stepped in and gave me a hand.

That's when Shawn came into the picture. Shawn and I had what some would call a whirlwind courtship, though the less romantic would call it stupidity. We knew each other for one week when he asked me out on a date. We'd dated for a week when he proposed. We were engaged for almost three weeks when we got married. That was eight and a half years ago.

Since then I've been pregnant 5 more times, and have two beautiful daughters who I call Rapunzel and Superchic. We've had two miscarriages and one stillborn and those losses greatly impacted my life, but not as much as all the little things in between.

Things like Shawn telling me that he doesn't have three children waiting for him in heaven, but four. Watching my girls nurse for the first time and seeing love in their eyes. Having my daughters curl up with me in bed in the morning, knowing that I'm going to tickle them. And having my family love me for who I am and not who I think I should be.

It may seem like I only wrote about the big turning points in my life, but it was the little things within each event that opened my eyes to the path before me.

All I can say is: watch for the little things in your life, because they are the ones that really matter.

The Author

Heather is the mother of 2 beautiful daughters and the wife of a husband who thinks the world revolves around her. She has three cats who want to send her to the circus. You can read more about her life at her blog, Comfortably Crazy.