When will the girls in my family learn?
I got a call from my youngest sister on Tuesday. Which is rare enough, but she's very random that way. As soon as I heard her voice, nervous, scared, worried (all shades of the same thing, I realize), I knew.
She's pregnant. About seven weeks. Due on--of all days--the (first) anniversary of our daddy's death.
Oh, boy.
So what the problem you might ask? My mom knows, but I'll share with the rest of you (two) readers...
I had my first baby three months short of my twentieth birthday. Not so bad, but I really shouldn't have been having a kid at that point. Not married, no job, living at home, going to community college. My daughter's father stepped up and we moved in together and he supported us. I didn't finish school. Anyway, not the point.
My oldest younger sister got pregnant in high school. Had her first daughter in January of her senior year. To her credit she did graduate. But she didn't learn what caused it and was the mother of four (all girls) by age twenty-three.
Now our youngest sister will be twenty in July. Not so bad, but let's see...baby of four kids (five if you count me as the much older half-sister), immature, living at home. Granted, she has a job and is attending school, but still...
Sigh...
I hope and pray the cycle breaks with my own daughters, as well as my sister's girls. My girls are 22- and 20-years-old. So far, so good. Every week, month, year is a milestone. I've told them both again, begged them both to take precautions. I don't want grand kids. The oldest doesn't seem interested in having kids, although my younger daughter does. She told me last night she wasn't having kids without a husband. I hope that holds true.
So back to this new baby...I don't want it to be a boy. For selfish reasons, really. Petty reasons. I don't want her naming the kid after Dad. But I don't want it to be a girl because...well, yeah...
