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Chapter 25 - School Plans

I sat at the kitchen table, nervously tapping my fingers against the surface. My parents sat across from me, both of them looking calm and composed. I knew what was coming—we had been putting this conversation off for weeks, but now that Rebecca's room was set up, the next big thing was my future. School. Graduation. Everything I hadn't had time to figure out in the chaos of the last few months.

"So," my mom started, her voice gentle, "we need to talk about what's next. For you, Mia."

I swallowed hard. I knew she wasn't talking about the baby anymore. We'd already spent hours planning for Rebecca's arrival. Now it was about me and what I was going to do after she was born.

"I've been thinking about it," I said, not wanting to sound like I was avoiding the topic. "I want to finish school. I mean, I need to finish school. For Rebecca and for myself."

My dad nodded. "That's good. But you know it's going to be tough, right? Balancing school and a baby."

"I know." The weight of those words settled on my chest. I'd thought about it a lot. How was I going to handle sleepless nights, feedings, and still make it through classes, homework, and exams?

"We're not saying it's impossible," my mom said, reading my mind. "We just want to make sure you have a plan. You don't have to do this alone."

My dad leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. "Your mom and I have been talking, and we want to help as much as we can. You need to finish school, Mia. Not just for you, but for Rebecca's future too."

I felt a flicker of hope at his words. "What do you mean? Help how?"

"We'll take care of the baby while you're at school," my mom said, her voice steady. "We've already looked into some options. I'm home most of the day, and when I'm not, your dad can adjust his work schedule to help out. We can watch her during the school day, so you don't have to worry."

I stared at them, processing what they were saying. They were offering me a lifeline—an actual plan to make this all work. "You'd really do that?"

"Of course," my dad said firmly. "You're our daughter, and Rebecca's our granddaughter. We're in this together."

A wave of relief washed over me, and I hadn't realized how much I'd been holding my breath until that moment. "Thank you. I don't know how to even—thank you," I said, my voice thick with emotion.

"We'll figure it out," my mom said softly. "It's not going to be easy, but you don't have to give up on your future, Mia. You can still graduate, maybe even go to college, if that's what you want."

I hadn't even allowed myself to think about college yet. Right now, getting through high school felt like a huge enough task on its own. "I definitely want to finish high school. I want to graduate with everyone else, even if it means going back for a bit after Rebecca's born."

"That's a good goal," my dad said, nodding approvingly. "One step at a time."

"I've already talked to the school counselor," my mom added. "She said they can work with you on an adjusted schedule. Maybe part-time at first or even online classes for a while. You can finish at your own pace, but we want you to know we're behind you no matter how long it takes."

I felt a weight lift off my shoulders. My parents were right—this wasn't going to be easy. There would be sleepless nights, exhausting days, and moments when I would feel completely overwhelmed. But now I had a plan, and I wasn't doing this alone.

"I just don't want to let Rebecca down," I said, my voice quiet.

"You won't," my mom assured me. "You're already showing her what it means to be strong and responsible. By staying in school and making a future for yourself, you're setting the best example for her."

"And remember," my dad chimed in, "we're all here for her. She'll always have family around her, helping out. You won't have to carry the whole burden by yourself."

I nodded, feeling a mix of gratitude and determination. My parents were giving me the chance to still be a teenager, to finish my education, to have a future. I owed it to Rebecca to take that chance.

"When do you want to go back?" my mom asked gently.

"I'll talk to the school counselor next week," I said. "Maybe I can ease back into it before Rebecca gets here. That way, I'm not falling too far behind."

"That's smart," my dad said, approvingly. "We'll help you get everything lined up."

We sat at the table for a little while longer, going over the details—what classes I could take, how we'd manage everything once the baby arrived, and what kind of support we could rely on from the school. It was overwhelming, but for the first time, I didn't feel like I was drowning in uncertainty. We had a plan.

Later that night, after everyone had gone to bed, I sat in Rebecca's room, the soft lavender walls glowing in the dim light of the lamp. I looked around at the crib, the tiny clothes, the toys, and the books that were already waiting for her.

I thought about the future—about balancing school and motherhood, about the challenges that lay ahead. But now, with my parents' support, it didn't seem as terrifying as it had before.

I placed my hand on my growing belly, feeling Rebecca's small kicks. "We've got this," I whispered to her. "It's going to be hard, but we'll figure it out. Together."

And for the first time in a long time, I believed it.

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