Category Archives: pregnancy

Angie V

Angie V
By: Mia L. Hazlett
1/25/15

“You tellin’ them tonight?” Shayna asks.

“Well my mom already knows, but I have to tell my dad.  I don’t know if she done told him already, but I gotta tell him,” I respond.

“Girl, ain’tchu scared?” she asks.

“Like it ain’t nobody’s business Shay. I’m so scared.  I wouldn’t be sayin’ a damn thing if my mother wasn’t with me.  But she promised she was gonna be there,” I tried to sound confident.

“Whatchu think your father’s gonna say?”

“He gonna kill me.  And after he kills me, he gonna kill Chris,” the thought crosses my mind.

After my mother yelled and cussed at Chris and his mother yesterday, she told me it was time to tell my father.  She’s known for almost a week now and she doesn’t want to have this secret from my him any longer.

The worst part of all this is Chris’s mom.  He blocked me on his phone.  I tried to call his house and his mother told me I was never allowed to call their house again. That didn’t go over well with my mother, hence her run in at pick-up yesterday.

I guess I’m happy that my mother knows.  I’ve gotten my lectures over the past week, but she told me she was going to be here for me and my baby.  Even though I know she’s going to be there for us, she also told me she’s not responsible for my father’s reaction.  That’s all me.

My living room was usually where I would just chill and kick back watchin’ TV.  But not tonight. Tonight I faced my family.  It was like I was in court or somethin’. My father was sitting in his recliner, but he wasn’t reclined. My mother and brother sat on the loveseat.  I expected my parents in here, but not my brother.

“What’s he in here for?” I asked my mom.

“Angela, we are a family.  He is part of the family and he’s gonna be part of this.  What you’ve done is going to impact this entire family.”

“What have you done?” my father asked.

I wanted to talk, but instead I began to cry.  It was hard telling my mom, but my father was different.  I was his princess.  That’s what he’s always called me.  Now I had to tell him I was pregnant.  He was going to know I had sex.  This was the most embarrassing day of my life.

“Daddy, I’m pregnant.”

Copyright © 2015 Mia L. Hazlett

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Angie IV

Angie IV
By: Mia L. Hazlett
11/9/14

The other day I was at ball and twisted my ankle. I really didn’t think about it until practice last night. I stepped on it wrong or somethin’.

My mother is picking me up today. I have to go to the doctors to get my ankle checked out. Aww damn. I see the car ahead of us by a few, it’s Angie’s mom. I forgot Angie’s final period is over here today. Uh-oh, she’s getting out of her car. She opens the back door and takes her coat off. As she puts it on a hanger, she glances back and then stops. She’s walking towards us.

“Hey isn’t that your friend’s mother? What’s her name? Angela?” my mother rolls her window down as Angie’s mom smiles outside the car.

“Hi,” she offers her hand so my mom can shake it, “I’m Calise, Angela’s mother. We’ve met before.”

“Oh yes, I remember. It was at one of the dances. Right?” my mother asks and shakes her hand.

“Would you mind stepping out of the car so we can have a conversation?” Angie’s mother asks.

“Um,” my mother hesitates, but gets out.

I really can’t hear what they’re sayin’, but I’m pretty sure it’s about me. They keep looking back at me.

“I don’t know what you’re little hoochie daughter is telling you, but my son is a basketball player and doesn’t have time for little girls. You’re mistaken,” my mother shouts and gets back into the car.

“Ask him. He’s right there,” she points at me and gives me a death glare.

“You need to go back to your car. Get away from us,” my mother shouts as the window glides up. I slink down in the seat, hoping no one can see me.

Angie’s mother hits the window with her hand, “Go fuck yourself.” she says before walking to her car.

“Yo mom, that chick is crazy,” I say right before my mother’s hand slaps me across the face.

“Shut up. Just shut up Christopher. Don’t say a word to me. I am so disappointed in you right now.”

Copyright © 2014, Mia L. Hazlett

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Angie III

Angie III
By: Mia L. Hazlett
11/8/2014

“Shit dawg. Watchu gonna do?” my boy Rese asks as we get ready for basketball practice.

“Rese, I don’t even know. Angie is cool and all, but I don’t want no damn baby with her. And she wants to keep it.
Like I seriously think she thinks we are going to get married and like have this kid,” I say and lace up my Jordans.

“She wants to get married? Yo, dude, you gotta cut her. Get out now and let her and that kid go. Watchu gonna do with a baby anyways? You’re friggin’ sixteen. You gonna be playin’ college ball soon. Don’t call her no more, nuthin’.”

“You think I need you to tell me that? Man I ain’t callin’ no one.”

My phone had like twenty text messages. Luckily she only comes to the high school for two of her classes. She gets high school credit for some classes. Otherwise, she spends all her time in the junior high across the street. My mom and dad don’t know nothin’. They’ll freak. But I’m not sayin’ nothin’. I got a good chance at gettin’ a full scholarship for ball. If this chick thinks I’m givin’ all that up she’s crazy. I ain’t givin’ ball up for no one.

It’s kinda messed up what I’m doin’, but I don’t care. My mother’s father was never around. She always told me if I ever got a girl pregnant, I better stay there for that girl and that child. But my mom is that old school stuff. Don’t nobody get married anymore when they have kids. Even if it gets back to my moms, I’ll just deny it. They won’t be able to prove a damn thing. I mean, I already told Angie I didn’t want no damn kid. If she has it, she’s havin’ it against my will. That’s gotta be breakin’ the law or somethin’. Even if it ain’t, me and Angie are done.
Copyright © 2014 Mia L. Hazlett

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Angie II

Angie II
By: Mia L. Hazlett
11/4/14

I wake up and am mushed between the wall and my mother. I remember telling her everything. I cried to her about Chris not calling me. If anything, I can’t believe how lucky I really am. My mother didn’t yell at me. She didn’t shame me. She just held me and let me talk. She let me be scared. She let me hate Chris. But most importantly, she promised for the next week, we don’t have to tell my father.

Standing in front of my mirror the next morning, I turn to the side and look at my stomach. It’s still flat. I don’t know for how long, but I know ugly is coming soon. I saw this freshman girl at school one time and her stomach looked like someone had drawn little squiggly lines all over it and a giant one down the middle. If I get fat and ugly, Chris will never want me.

My mother told me we would handle him later, but the most important thing was a doctor’s appointment. She made one for today and she will pick me up after school. I can’t believe how cool my mom is being. I know she won’t last like this for long. Once she tells my dad, it will be over for me. But I need my mom right now. I felt really safe when I woke up with her in my bed. She told my dad I was sick and she wanted to stay close to me.

This cannot be happening. I look at the pick-up ring, which is where parents pull in to pick their kids up from school, and my mom and Chris’s mom are shouting at each other. Chris is in the passenger’s seat, slinking down trying not to be seen. I walk closer and hear my mother say “go fuck yourself,” before walking to the car and slamming the door.

I get in the car and I’m so embarrassed. I don’t say anything. I’m too scared. My mother just cussed my boyfriend’s mother out.

“Honey, I want you to know something. What you and Chris have done, is totally irresponsible. But both of you did it. Both of you. And people are going to say a lot of things because you’re young. But nobody gets to put you down and not hear my mouth. Now don’t get me wrong Angela, we are not friends. I am your mother and when I tell your father, the shit is gonna hit the fan. But baby, I will go to war and back for you. You are my God-given responsibility and I will protect you with my life. Now put your seat belt on.”

We drive off and I love and fear my mother at the same time.

Copyright © 2014 Mia L. Hazlett

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Angie

Angie
By Mia L. Hazlett
11/3/2014

This sucks. My life is over at fourteen. I’m gonna die. I’m so alone. I can’t talk to anyone. I lie on my bed holding my cell praying for him to call. He promised he would call. A quick vibration and “BFF” pops up on my iPhone along with a picture of Shayna.

“Girl,” I say, “He hasn’t called me. He came up to my locker after 4th and he said he was gonna call me after ball. I dun text him like ten damn times. Can’t nobody tell nobody they don’t have no time to text back. “

“Watchu doin’ now? Let’s roll down to his practice,” Shayna puts an idea in my head.

“I just gotta wait for my parents to get here, ‘cause I’m watchin’ Jordy. He gonna be outta practice by the time they get home,” I get the idea out of my head to roll up on him at his basketball practice.

“Well if he ain’t called by the time they get home, we gonna go knockin’ on his front door. He ain’t gettin’ outta this girl. If he thinks he is, the brotha dun lost his damn mind. He’s gotta know he can’t avoid us,” Shayna has always had my back.

“Girl what am I going to do?” I got my boyfriend out of my head and now it is just BFF to BFF.

“Whatever you do, don’t tell your parents. First you gotta see what Chris is gonna say, because you know your Daddy is gonna flip,” Shayna reminds me what else I am scared of.

“What if they kick me out? I mean they don’t even know I have a boyfriend. Shayna I’m so scared.” My voice cracks and the tears follow.

“Girl don’t cry. It’s gonna be okay. They ain’t gonna kick you out. And even if they do, you can come over here. You know my mother would never let you be on the streets.”

Somehow, every time Shayna tells me not to cry, I cry harder. The downstairs door opens. My mother is home. Maybe there is time to catch him at practice.

“Girl I have to go set the table for dinner. My mom just got home.”

I hang up with Shayna and go to the bathroom to wash my face. If I don’t wash my face and get my puffy eyes to go away, I will end up telling my mother. The one thing I’ve always been able to do is talk to my mom. If my mother asks me anything, I’ll lose it and tell her. She can’t know yet.

I throw the cold water on my face and I’m not sure if it is the water on my face or me bending over, but whatever happened, I now stand over the toilet throwing up. Back to the sink. Too late. My mother is behind me rubbing my back as I rinse my mouth out.

I turn and face my mother, “What’s going on babygirl?” she asks.

“Mummee, I’m pregnant,” I crumble into tears in my mother’s arms.

She holds me tight to her chest and whispers into my ear, “I know baby. I already know.”

Copyright © 2014 Mia L. Hazlett

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Conundrum XIII

By: Mia L. Hazlett
4/15/13

Our dinner last night was so special to me. They had all met up before, but I was always the one who couldn’t make it there. I’m so happy I didn’t miss last night. I needed that night out. I hate getting snippet pieces of information from over five or six different phone conversations with everyone. Sitting there last night and hearing what was going on in everyone’s life made me appreciate my circumstances…at least a little bit.

I guess it hurt me the most that I couldn’t share what was going on in my life. I had to wear this happy mask and make myself appear indestructible on the outside, when in reality my life had been shattered three weeks ago. Absolutely shattered to pieces!

The relationships Tasha and Dawn had with their mother-in-laws was the relationship, which existed between my mother and I. It always had been and most likely always will be. My mother was a housewife and my father was an attorney at a prestigious (I’ve always hated that word) firm in downtown Boston. What was prestigious? His title? His salary? His partners? Whatever it was, I never heard “firm” without “prestigious.”

Somehow, this prestige boosted my mother’s image of herself and how she thought others should perceive us. If there was a point of perfection that existed beyond perfection, than that was how my mother wanted to be perceived. I almost ruined that for our family at the tender age of 15. I was raped by our babysitter’s boyfriend.

I had one older brother and one younger. My parents and their prestige led them to vacation and leave us with one of my father’s fellow attorney’s niece to babysit us while they were away. She was twenty-something and would always have her friends and on this one occasion, boyfriend, over to the house.

Point is, he came into my room this one night, drunk. He raped me and I conceived a child. My mother never believed me and told me I was to never say anything about it. I was home-schooled and never left my house. Literally, I never left our property. The backyard to our pool was the only place outside I was allowed. A home-birth was arranged with papers and a social worker or adoption lady, whoever that lady was who took my daughter or son.

Life continued as normal, for my “prestigious” parents anyways. At least my brothers believed me. They found the guy. I don’t know what happened to him, but whatever it was, was relayed in a quick wink from my brother when I asked why his shirt had blood on it one night. That was the best wink I ever received in my life.

I really never imagined I would ever have to revisit that year in my life, until the letter I received 3 weeks ago. That social work lady took away my daughter that day. The same daughter, who hunted me down and now wanted to know why I had given her away. There was a 25 year-old person I never met, who lost her adoptive parents in the past 5 years and now wants answers from me.

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Macy VII

By: Mia L. Hazlett

5/14/2012

Work was absolutely impossible.  Knowing I had a box full of my ancestry waiting at home made me appreciate the long weekend that was now upon me.  I had told my friends I was going away for the weekend, so I could have uninterrupted alone time with my grandmother.  Dead or not, this was the closest we had ever been.  I needed to hear her story.  I wanted to understand why she spent my lifetime showing her love for me through hate.

There was an inner conflict warring inside me at the same time.  Should I include my mother in unraveling the mystery of her mother?  We both knew who she was, but I guess in life it means a whole lot more to find out why people are the way they are.  But because I was only a few letters in, I decided to wait on sharing with my mother.  I felt a need to protect her, just as she had spent her life protecting me as best she could.  There was a part of me that felt as though my grandmother was apologizing to my mother through me.  She knew I told my mother everything,  Maybe she wrote these letters to my mother so I would tell her, rather than for her to have to read them by herself.  Because if my mother had received them, she would never share any of these with anyone.

I usually have my bottle of Riesling and a good book as I cozy under my sheets on a Friday night.  But wine didn’t compliment the mood to the #4 envelope that sat next to my pillow.  I opted for a cup of decaf coffee.

Well Macy,

Even dough Mz Suzana dun luvd me and Moma, we dun stoped wurkin’ fo her not to much aftr dat der lunch.  Sho was sad fo me and Mz Mary.  Sho was sad.  Wuznt jus bout money now and eatin.  It wuz jus hard to find good white folk to wurk fo bak den.  Moma didn’t want wurk fo nobody dat had manee boyz.  ‘Cuz aftr skool I wood come on and meet her at her job.  Even dough I wuz yung, she dun sed my bodee parts wur reel ladeelike. We dun had us good luk wit Mz Suzana, but not manee wite ladeez wuz like her.  Lots ov dem dun hated culurzds. Don’t reelee no how it wuz dat Mz Suzana culd say stuff to her son, cuz most timez da white women culd not say nuttin in her house.  So Moma wuz scurd a boy or da man in da house wood want to touch my bodee.  After wut Mz. Suzanaz boy dun did to me, I didnt never want no boy on top me like dat again.  

Moma dun found uz a house wit a reel mean ole ladee, but she wuz alwayz in her room.  Her dotter wuz sumpin reel nice Macy.  Sumpin reel nice.  I dun liked Mz. Bell reel good.  She pay Moma eight moneez a week Macy.  We ain’t dun never made dat type der money.  Mz. Suzana onlee pay Moma five moneez a week and gave us food and da clothes, but now Mz Bell do dat and mo moneez.  Mz Bell have hurself two sonz.  They wuz like da sun an da dark.  Now here me Macy.  HERE ME REEL GOOD.  I never dun looked any ov doze boyz in der faces or eyez, but they dun said I did.  

I dun walkd to go meet Moma one day after school.  Dats wut I wuz suppozed to do.  Meet moma at Mz Bells house.  I wood do a da sweepin dat needed to be dun.  When I dun got der I walked round da house to da back.  Now my clothez wuz still small cuz Mz Mary wuz much biger than me.  But I wuz a bit biger than Mz Bell.  Dats da clothez I wuz gettin.  Mz Bells old old clothz.  Mama sed to preciate all we got an wear dem if I wuz gonna be der.  Her shirt fit me reel tight cross my growin’ chest.  Moma sed my bodee parts wuz growin sumpin wild.  I wuz jus reel quiet when she wood talk like dat.  I dun come round dat house and Mz Bells bad son wuz sitin’ on a stump with a long twig in hiz hand.  He looked at me sumpin rong Macy.  He looked sumpin rong.  I jus went to da back door and der wuzn’t no way da door wood open.  He started laffin’ sumpin rong.  He told me wuzn’t no one home.  

I dun turned to walk down da path I had come round to, but he wuz in my way.  He got reel close like to me and sed he dun seen me lookin’ at him.  I told him I hadn’t been lookin’ at nobuddy.  He dun slapped me sumpin’ hard in my face for sassin him.  Dats wut he sed Macy, I dun sassed him.  He took dat twig and dun poked my chest.  He kept on pokin and tole me to take my shirt off.  I dun sed no.  I new wut he wuz gonna do.  But Macy wuznt no boy gonna be on top me like Mz Suzanas son gain.  Not never.  He dun push me and wit all my power, I dun push dat boy rite on back to the ground.  Den I dun run round dat house and he dun cot up wit me and grabbed and ripped my shirt clear off.  I didn’t have no things on under it, so chest wuz showin’.  Moma told me only my husband wuz suppoze to see me like dat.  But I didn’t care.  I kept runnin’.  

I felt him grab my sholeder and push me.  I don’t know wut hapend, cuz I woke up in Mz Bellz house in da back room on a cot.  My hed dun hurt sumpin’ awful and I wuz lookin’ at Mz Bellz mean moma.  I think she wuz happy wuzn’t dead cause she started prayin sumpin.  Mz Bell came runin on nex to her moma an den I saw Moma.  She was cryin’ wen she dun grabbed and hugged me sumpin tite.  It wuz a bit odd cuz Mz Bellz mean moma wuz bein reel nise to me and rubbin my hed. 

Afder dat der day, I wuznt loud to go round der no more.  Mz Bell dun taked cared ov uz reel nise, but hur moma wuz reel meen like.  She dun hated uz.  I never did see dat son ov herz again.  Sed he went to liv wit sum hiz momas people dat lived sumwhere in a difrent state.  To munts later, my Moma told me why.  She dun told me everything dat dun happend dat day wit Mz Bellz son.  Don’t member much bout da storee, but I new my bodee parts done got me to have a babee inside me.  Yes Macy.  Dat is why Mz Bellz son had to go far away.  He dun gave me a babee dat der day wen I dun hit me hed.

 

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