Reality....

I was holding on, I think....holding on that a doctor was going to tell me that it was a mistake; my daughter was NOT pregnant. Soon, the words, "Yes, she is pregnant" took away my last hope. I remember being amazed that Katy was sobbing. Did she really fear a miscarriage? Was she really so enamored with the idea of having a baby that she was terrified to lose it? I only felt numbness. I knew who the father was. I didn't have to ask her the question, "Do you know who the father is?" The "father" was a man ten years older than Katy....a man who had swooped into her life and showered her with gifts, attention and promises. She, of course, wanted him to come to the hospital. So did I. I immediately wanted to set the tone that this was also HIS responsibility. Katy called him and he sped to the hospital. Then we waited......we waited to see if the bleeding was controllable. We waited to see if the pregnancy were viable. We waited to see how our lives were going to change.