My Baby, She Wrote Me A Letter

I feel like I'm writing a soap opera here only its my life. . .

As I previously stated, I decided the only way to contact Newsome was to write him a letter.  What's a pregnant soldier to do?

I don't remember the letter exactly but I do remember being scared.  What if he was mad?  What if he didn't want to be with me any more?  What if he found someone else?  What if  . . .I also remember giving him a ultimatum something like, "I need to hear from you by . . . " because I was so alone and I didn't want to be.

I was so insecure.

And what exactly did this mean for me?  Its not just about me anymore --there's another life involved and this life, this unknown life . . . among the many many things going on in my life at this time, I was coming up to the end of my enlistment.  Well, it was within  the next year and so I needed to decide if I wanted to reenlist.

Should I reenlist?  Make a career out of the Army?  Do I want to be a single Mom in the Army?  Do I want to marry Newsome and  be a dual military parent?  What if he doesn't want to marry me anymore?  Do I want to get out of the Army?  And go where?  Live where?  Do what?  Get a job?  With a baby?  What job?  Live with who?  Go back to Chicago?  It was just impossible to decide.  I longed for, ached to talk to Jerry.  I needed to hear his voice, I needed assurance and  . . . .

I was also very sick --throwing up all day and into the night.  I couldn't sleep or eat.  I was living on sips of water and saltine crackers.  Living in the barracks was less than desirable.  It was loud all of the time and even late into the night I'd hear drunk soldiers coming and going and loud music playing in the rooms.  I made no attempt to get to know any of the other soldiers --I had too much going on, I simply had nothing left to give.  A few of the females that lived down the hall came to my room to welcome me and invited me to come to their room if I ever needed anything. I was nice and cordial towards them but I never took them up on the offer. 

In the background of all of this, my mother was experiencing some headaches and something just didn't seem right to her.  She had been going to the doctor and they were trying a few things to try to alleviate her headaches.  She was communicating about it mostly with my older sister, Val, but Mom would tell me things here and there too.  No one had any reason to be alarmed.  I was talking to my Mom quite often - she would call me at the barracks or I'd go to the call center and call her.

When my Dad got the news about my pregnancy he called me right away --I was living in the barracks and he phoned me there.  I'm standing at the CQ (Charge of Quarters) desk with all these people around and noise and my Dad is asking me questions and wants to know what was going on --there's no privacy what-so-ever so I was giving him short answers, yes/no answers and then he asked me a question that just pierced my heart.  I can't explain it --maybe it was the tone of disappointment in his voice, maybe it was the sound of hurt in his heart and I'm standing at this desk trying so hard not to cry and my Dad asked me, "Why didn't you tell me?  Why didn't I hear this from you?"  Remember, my mother was the only one I personally told.  I didn't really have an answer for my Dad, at least not one I was willing to admit.  I said to him, "I don't know --it just seems like something a daughter would naturally tell her mother."

Silence.

But really the truth --

I was so ashamed of myself.

My Dad told me he was booking a flight to Kansas, he'd be there soon.