From Teen To Mom

Chapter 23

After enduring a prolonged stay in the NICU with Bentley, our return home felt like a victory. As I stepped foot into our living room, a wave of surprise washed over me. The chaotic mess of baby items that had once cluttered the space was now organized and thoughtfully arranged throughout our home.

Bentley's recovery was a cause for tremendous gratitude, as he emerged from his ordeal unharmed. However, my journey was not without its challenges. The pain I experienced post-delivery was agonizing, yet I had no choice but to bear it silently. My past struggles with addiction to painkillers caused me unable to seek relief through medication while breastfeeding.

To worsen matters, the doctor delivered a devastating blow, revealing that any future pregnancies posed a serious risk to my life. To avoid this danger, they promptly prescribed birth control before my release from the hospital. Although it seemed useless, as Greyson and I had not had sex since that night almost a year ago. The night that forever altered the course of our lives.

Throughout this rough journey, Greyson had been full of support and love. His protectiveness knew no bounds, demonstrated by his careful handling of Bentley and myself. He bore the weight of our near-death experience and the fear that consumed him, all while shielding me from witnessing the extent of his distress. My heart ached for him, understanding the depths of his actions and the sacrifices he made for our sake.

His protectiveness expanded to even the most simple tasks. He would climb the stairs, carrying Bentley with the utmost care, and then return to retrieve me against my protests. Deep down, I was grateful for his strength, sparing me the difficult climb after undergoing major surgery. On our first night back, we nestled into bed, finding comfort in each other's presence as we watched a movie. Bentley peacefully nursed at my breast, as I cradled in the secure embrace of Greyson's arms.

As the credits rolled and Bentley drifted into slumber, I carefully placed him in his bassinet, preparing to surrender to some much-needed rest. However, my body throbbed with pain, my breasts swollen and leaking milk. Despite the discomfort, my overwhelming love for my baby outweighed any misery I felt.

But our tranquility was unexpectedly shattered by a piercing scream that punctured through the darkness of the night. Fear coursed through my veins, and I nearly tore open my stitches as I frantically searched for the source of the sound. Bentley remained in his bassinet, his cries filling the room. Desperate to comfort him, I reached out, only to be held back by the searing pain in my abdomen. A small stain of blood on my white t-shirt near the incision caught my attention, adding to my distress.

Greyson noticed the blood as well. He swiftly rose from the bed and scooped up Bentley in his arms. "I've got him. Check your bandages and make sure your incision is alright." His gentle kiss on my lips offered reassurance as he paced the room, attempting to soothe our screaming son.

While I tended to my bandages, Bentley's cries continued, and Greyson's expression began to betray a sense of defeat. I attempted to nurse him, hoping it would console him, but he refused. We were locked in a battle of wills, with my son's cries echoing into the early hours of the morning. Exhausted, we kept going, finally finding respite when our son gave in to a peaceful slumber. The journey of parenthood had begun, marked by its challenges and infinite trials.

The next morning, the reality of our situation hit us like a tidal wave. We were not only teenage parents, but also students trying to excel in our high school studies. Thankfully, Greyson graduated early so he could work more hours but I was extremely behind in my schoolwork.

Our days became a juggling act between caring for Bentley's constant needs and keeping up with my academic responsibilities and his career. Sleep deprivation became our constant companion, leaving us with heavy eyelids and foggy minds as we stumbled through each day.

The stress and strain of being teenage parents of a newborn began to take its toll on our relationship. The lack of sleep, combined with the overwhelming demands of parenthood, led to frequent disagreements and heightened emotions. We were both navigating unknown territory, and our differing approaches to parenting often clashed. The weight of responsibility hung heavy between us, and the strain it placed on our young shoulders threatened to tear us apart.

Our social lives, once filled with carefree laughter and teenage adventures, became a distant memory. While our peers enjoyed the freedom of youth, we were confined to the duties of parenthood. Invitations to parties and outings became rare, as we struggled to find a balance between our obligations as parents and our desire to maintain some front of a normal teenage life. Two months flew by and isolation from our friends and the disconnect from our youth added an extra layer of loneliness to our already overwhelming situation.

One evening, as the exhaustion and frustration reached their peak, a heavy argument exploded between Greyson and me. The tiredness had worn away our patience, and the stress of our circumstances became too much to bear. In the heat of the moment, we exchanged hurtful words.

"You know, I can't help but think that my life would be so much easier if I hadn't given up everything for you and Bentley," Greyson said after we had already been exchanging hurtful remarks back and forth all through the day, his voice was with bitterness. Neither of us had slept in at least three days and our emotions are beyond magnified.

Tears streamed down my face as the weight of his words crashed upon me. "Greyson, how can you say that to me? We made a promise to each other and Bentley. We are supposed to be doing this together." I choked out, my voice trembling.

His anger erupted, and his voice rose to match the intensity of his emotions. "You think I don't know that? We are doing this together! But this is not what I fucking signed up for! I thought we would still have fun, live our lives, and figure things out as we went along. Instead, it's non-stop crying, dirty diapers, and sleepless nights! And don't even get me started on the fact the only time we ever fucked was when we made Bentley!"

His words cut deep, exposing the cracks in our once-solid relationship. He knows I am scared to be intimate again, even though I was slowly healing. We had both sacrificed so much for the sake of our son, but the weight of our commitments had become suffocating. The dreams and aspirations we had as teenagers were replaced by the harsh realities of parenthood, and the strain it placed on us was threatening to tear us apart.

"I don't know how you could even say that to me," I say through blurry tears. "Fuck you, Greyson."

During our argument, he stood up and stormed out of the house, leaving me standing alone, trembling with a mixture of anger and sadness. The silence that followed his departure was deafening, and I was left grappling with the overwhelming sense of abandonment.