Life’s Detours: From Teenage Dreams to Motherhood

So, life was sweet for a few years. Our house was full—me, Mom, my baby sister, and my new sister. No fighting, no arguing, just love and fun. I was doing what teenagers do, going to school, hanging out with my friends, smoking a little weed, and enjoying life. I had dated a few guys, but at this time I was single and feeling kind of cute.

One day, my sister asked me to go with her to one of our friend’s houses for his birthday. We’d all been close for a while—I even used to date the friend’s brother. I was bored with nothing else to do, so I thought, “Why not?”

We got to T’s house and rang the bell. The door opened, but we couldn’t see who was behind it. Then it swung wide, and there stood this fine-ass, Mack-looking Adonis. “Hey,” he said with a little country twang. My eyes popped open.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I’m Chill,” he replied.

I said, “I’m Valerie,” and our eyes locked in that knowing, flirtatious way. And just like that, the sparks began. Chill was the perfect name—he was smooth as silk, charming to the core. I knew he was laying it on thick, but I didn’t care. He was so fine. We had an amazing time that night, and I didn’t leave expecting more than what it was.

We became what people now call “friends with benefits.” And I must say—I really enjoyed the benefits. We started spending more time together, but it soon became clear that Chill wasn’t about much. No goals, crashing with his cousin, avoiding responsibilities from another state, and constantly flirting with other women. The trust was gone, and lies were always creeping in. So, I ended it, chalked it up to "good while it lasted."

Then came the morning sickness. I know, what happened to condoms and birth control. I never even thought about it. Asking my mom for birth control would mean admitting to her that I was having sex. While she probably already knew, that’s not a conversation I wanted to have with her. I felt like it would disappoint her and she would think less of me. As for condoms, I let the benefits outweigh the ask. It’s a shame, but many women do the same. Women are either afraid to ask the guy to where a condom or they let the guy talk them into believing it won’t feel the same or they just get caught in the feeling and forget. My wise self knows clearly now that unexpected pregnancies these days are the least thing the no protection can bring.

At first, I didn’t know what was going on. But my mom took one look at me and said, “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”

“What? What do you mean? How do you know?”

“You’re my child. I can tell. I’m taking your ass to the doctor.”

Now, keep in mind, I was 16 years old and about to enter my senior year of high school. I was already looking at colleges—Texas A&M was high on my list. I had dreams, plans, a future.

Could I be pregnant? And by Chill, no less?

You’d think this would have triggered panic. But as strange as it sounds—I was elated. I’d always wanted a baby. I even had a name picked out since I was 13: Kia. When the doctor confirmed what my mother already knew, I smiled from ear to ear. My mom? Not so much.

She said, “I don’t want to make you do something you’ll resent me for, but you have to think about your future.”

She didn’t want me to blame her later for pushing me into something I didn’t want. So, she started the conversation, and I responded quickly, firmly: “No. I want to have this baby, Mom.”

She tried every angle. First, she sent me to Connecticut to visit a cousin who had baby young. Her job was to scare me with horror stories. But I had a great time—and came home still saying, “I want this baby.”

Then it was off to New York to stay with my brother Tommy, who was a superintendent in the Bronx. He was supposed to give me the talk—but we ended up shopping, playing cards, and listening to music. Same outcome: I came home still saying, “I want this baby.”

Finally, Mom pulled out the big guns: Aunt Gloria.

Aunt Gloria was the matriarch. She loved all of us dearly but didn’t play. Even my mom got nervous when Aunt Gloria got serious.

She took us out to dinner and spent an hour laying it all out—what I’d be giving up, how young I was, how the father wasn’t worth a damn. “You’ve got your whole life to have another baby,” she said. “What the hell were you thinking?” Then she added, “But I love you, Pumpkin. I’ll support you, whatever you decide. Just think long and hard.”

I looked both of them in the eyes and said, “If you make me have an abortion, I want to keep the fetus in a bottle in my room.”

Stone. Cold. Silence. For five minutes, nobody said a word. But they saw how serious I was, or they thought to themselves, “This girl has gone over the edge. We’re either going to have to support her or commit her”.

Then Aunt Gloria broke the silence.

“We’re going to have to get you some maternity clothes soon. We’ll talk about everything else later. What do you want to eat?”

That was it. They never tried to talk me out of it again.

As wild as it sounded, I meant it with my whole heart—I wanted my baby. I wanted Kia. No matter what.

I understand that babies having babies is not the best forward movement. I also understand that many parents would not encourage their 16-year-old daughter to interrupt their life plans to struggle raising a child. But, for whatever reason, my mom and my aunt chose to support my decision.

I called Chill to tell him. We argued. He asked, “Who’s it by?”

I said, “You ain’t shit. Do you think I’d lie about this?”

Our situationship had crumbled. There was nothing left to hold onto. That’s why I always tell my children: be careful who you have a baby with. That person becomes a permanent part of your life. If you hate them, that energy spills into the child. And that’s not fair. Kids should not have to suffer for choices that they had no say in. Yet, unfortunately, it happens all the time.

So, I told Chill. We met up. He acted excited—for a day and a half.

Then he stole his cousin’s radio and some other stuff, bought a bus ticket, and disappeared back to his hometown. That was the last time I saw him in person.

He called later, made empty promises. At one point, he even asked me to move in with him and said he could get me on food stamps and secure me a monthly check from the state. My mom shut that down quick. “Hell to the naw,” she said. “You’re staying here, finishing high school, and getting a job.”

Thank God I listened that time.

She reminded me that my life was changing. No more hanging out like before. The baby comes first in everything. I didn’t feel ready—but nine months later, God blessed me with a beautiful angel baby.

She was so beautiful I didn’t believe she was mine when I first saw her. She was everything. I could feel her spirit. She was special. And I was the luckiest mom in the world.

At that moment, life really began. The journey was not easy by a long shot. I thank God every day for the five years that I had my mom. She and my family were the anchor that pulled me through. I had no idea what I was doing at first. I looked into the eyes of this tiny creature that I was responsible to shape the life of, and I had no clue. Hell, my life was still being shaped. As much as I loved her, I cried to God for help. I had no idea what I was doing, I don’t know who cried louder; Kia through her episodes of colic or me with my 16-year-old clueless self.

I thank God again for my mama. Kia was my mom’s breath. She absolutely adored that baby girl. She made sure Kia had everything she needed and cared for her while I finished high school—graduating in the top 5% of my class with a 3.8 GPA.

The journey wasn’t easy for anyone. Our lives were being uprooted in the midst of welcoming my new bundle of joy. We moved from New Jersey to Virginia for my senior year of high school to care for my grandmother, who was diagnosed with Demetia. What an ironic event that was. Our family, volunteering to uproot our life to move all the way to Virginia to care for a woman that had caused so much pain and toxicity to our garden. By that how life works, you never know when the tables will turn. But we did it, we moved to Virginia, mom took excellent care of grandmother, I completed high school with honors, and my Kia sprinkled joy and love throughout the family.

You see, even in things that seem like a detour from our path, GOD brings purpose. And my Kia has been--and continues to be—not just a blessing to my life, but to the world.