Our Story - Part I: How We Met

Love at first sight does exist, I can assure you...

The year was 1999. It was a crisp April morning, and I was excited to return to my hometown high school after months of being forced to go to a Catholic high school a couple cities over. I met up with my best friend, Ashley, out front and we walked to our shared locker in our low-rise flared jeans and see-through babydoll tops. Remember, this was the 90's. LOL

After grabbing my books for my first two classes and stuffing them into my awesome white Jansport backpack, we said our goodbyes and I headed off to my first period class, Sex Education. I waved hello and threw out a "what's up?" to classmates I had gone to school with my entire life as I made my way through the crowded hallways. Finally, I reached the classroom and went inside.

The teacher of course didn't know me from Adam. He announced a "new student" and placed me right in front of rows of desks that divided the room. Directly across from me was identical rows facing me. I scanned the faces around me, waved and smiled and said hello to more familiar faces, when suddenly my line of sight stopped on someone I didn't recognize.

All I saw at first was a boy slouched low in his seat, legs outstretched in front of him, wearing a GIANT, ankle length Chicago Bulls jacket with the biggest hood I've ever seen covering his entire head and face. The only other thing I could make out was the wide leg of the Jnco style jeans and the Jordon's peeking out. I was intrigued. Who was this hooded boy? My attention was quickly averted, however, when the teacher began to speak, signaling the beginning of class. Ever the attentive student, I was.

As class went on, the teacher inevitably asked a question. Silence. The teacher scanned the room looking for an eager student to answer, then his eyes landed on the hooded boy and what came out was, "Thompson! Hood off!" The hood was pulled back, and I saw those perfect cheekbones and lips for the first time and his dark, sexy, puppy dog eyes landed on mine. And that is when time stood still for me and all I could think was "Daaaammmmmnnn." Playing in the nothingness was 80s music....

Okay maybe not that part, but you get the idea. I was immediately smitten and knew in my gut that I was going to marry that boy someday.

Unfortunately, I was way too shy to do anything about it. And so was he at first. We proceeded to spend the next two weeks skirting around each other. It started with just first period. Then Ashley and I began to notice him and his friend walking behind us, being crazy and coming up with hilarious antics, on our way to and from lunch each day. After a week, we noticed him walking behind us on our way home to Ashley's house and realized he lived just up the block from her. Finally, his friend, Ramon, came up to us and broke the ice, asking our names and where we were headed for lunch for the day. Then he introduced him as Brian. We shook hands and smiled...and my damn face burned so hot and red!! That's when I became Rosie to him.

Over the next few weeks, we all spent more and more time together, first at lunch, then after school on our way home. Lunches were always entertaining, because Brian, who I found out was known as BJ in his family, was not one to hold back on his jokes and would frequently do things like stop cars in the street and run to their window asking, "How do you like living in Oakdale?" then running off like a madman. I found him to be the most hilarious person I'd ever met, doing and saying things I'd never dream of doing. Then one day after school, as we approached his house and we started to part ways, he finally got up the nerve to ask if I wanted to come inside with him and Ramon for a bit.

I agreed to since Ashley was sick that day and I didn't have anyone to hang with after school anyway. He took us inside, stole a Pepsi that he wasn't supposed to drink and took us back to his room. I remember walking in and seeing his twin sized bed, the sports posters on the wall and feeling nervous and excited - this was the first boy's bedroom I'd been in before and it was his. I sat on the edge of the bed since there wasn't anywhere else to and Ramon helped facilitate the conversation by telling him to show me his Jordon cards collection on the top shelf on the wall. Genuinely interested, I peeked inside the tin once it was opened and presented to me only to find a huge pile of condoms - probably expired. LOL He was blushing when I looked at him, I blushed back and said, "Oh yeah, cool cards," then changed the subject as quickly as possible, terrified yet intrigued somehow now since this boy apparently was already sexually active and I was not. We were 15 and 16!!

The visit went normal from there - checked out the backyard, met his dad's dogs. That sort of thing. And the next day, I came back. And the next, and the next. Before you knew it, we were inseparable. I don't even remember the first time we kissed or even how we became US, it just happened. We both couldn't stand to be apart from each other. We were so opposite - me a goody-goody, straight A student; him the class clown. And yet, we were made for each other. Quickly the friendship turned into love and within just a couple short months, we were officially a couple and actively doing things teenagers should not be doing together...if you know what I mean.

Ruh Roh....That wasn't supposed to happen...

So, there we were, madly in love and spending every moment we could together, having sex every chance we could because, you know, horny teenagers. In August, however, I realized something. Ummmm...where was my period? It hadn't come this month, and I was at least a week late.

I tried to talk to my mom about it. She asked me to wait another week to test, scared for me. You see, she was a 16-year-old mom, too. I, however, couldn't wait. I felt something was off with my body, knew in my gut what it was, and just needed it confirmed. So I asked his dad's friend to purchase me a test.

I remember it like it was yesterday. BJ gave me a kiss and told me good luck as I walked into the tiny bathroom of his old duplex (his dad had moved by this point). I peed on that little stick, placed it on the counter, and waited. That was the longest few minutes of my life. When the time was up, I looked down and the color drained from my face. Two lines. I was pregnant. At 15. What. the. f*ck.

I immediately burst into tears and came out of the bathroom holding the test. BJ took one look at me, then at the test, then back at my face and the color drained from him, then he snapped back to it and grabbed me and held me, telling me it would be okay, and he loved me. We sat like that for I don't know how long, crying and holding each other in shock. The tears finally slowed, and we started talking about what we would do. Would we abort? No - neither of us agreed with that. Would we give it up for adoption? Would we keep it? It was too soon to tell.

Before long, my mom showed up to pick me up after work. I kissed BJ goodbye as he wiped my tears one last time and got into the car. She took one look at me and said, "You're pregnant, aren't you?" and I burst into tears again. She took me into the biggest, safest hug and told me to breathe, we would get through it together. And you know what? My mom was right there with us every step of the way, never judging or pushing our decision one way or the other.

We really weren't sure at first what we were going to do. Then we went for our first sonogram and saw our tiny little pilaf-sized baby, and both of our hearts melted. There would be no adoption. That was our baby, and it would be with us. Period. The rest would fall into place. So, we began the journey to parenthood at 15 and 16 years old. We signed up for parenting classes, First Aid, and lamaze. We registered at our local Babies R Us and were setting up the nursery on one side of my bedroom. We started picking out names after school and homework. We were babies preparing to have a baby.

Read Part II here...