Not Afraid of Life (10 page)

The first one showed that I was pregnant. I thought it was probably a fluke.

The second one showed even more prominent pluses. But two tests aren’t proof of anything.

I went to work after lunch, and on the way home, I bought a lot more tests . . . all different kinds.

We went back to Lauden’s house, and I ran to the bathroom.

I went out to my cousin while we waited for the results. Two minutes never felt longer.

We looked at it. Another plus sign.

“Oh, my gosh, Bristol,” she said. The news immediately sank into her.

It can’t be right,
I thought.
I’ve been careful. Maybe I didn’t do the test right.

With each new test, my heart got heavier and heavier.

And, by the eighth test, I was positively snapped out of my denial.

T
wo days later was Levi’s eighteenth birthday, so I drove to Wasilla to see him. I was pretty nervous to tell him, because I didn’t know what kind of response he would have. After a few minutes of trying to get my nerve up, I finally just blurted it out.

“I have something to tell you,” I said. “Don’t freak out.”

Then I showed him the test.

He looked up in disbelief. For a woman not in my circumstance that day, I can imagine that telling a husband he’s about to be a father would be a rather emotional and amazing experience. Women think of all kinds of creative ways to reveal the secret. Some wrap up a baby bottle and give it as a present; others buy baby clothes and sneak them into their husband’s bureau. Because this was definitely not a festive occasion, I didn’t expect tears of joy. Which is good. Because this is what I got:

“Better be a f—king boy.”

That’s it. That’s what he said. And the weird thing about it, I was glad his response was so favorable. He could’ve been angry, he could’ve demanded I have an abortion, he could’ve denied it was his baby. Instead, he seemed to see something good coming out of this less-than-ideal situation. He seemed to actually want a son.

I knew Levi wasn’t the man he needed to be. He treated me terribly, he cheated on me all the time, he didn’t work, and he didn’t go to school. However, I felt this was the kick in the pants that would cause him to be different. Now he had no choice but to clean himself up and start providing for me and our baby.

Baby. Just the thought of it was so staggering. I wasn’t afraid of taking care of one, because I’d taken care of Willow, Piper, and my cousins for years. The scary part was being a teen mom. Being alone. Being a disappointment to my family.

I took one look at Levi, on his eighteenth birthday, and I thought,
This baby and I are going to change this man.
I hoped one day I’d lead him to God, show him how to be a part of a family, and settle into some sort of family life together.

“I’ll get a job,” he said. “We can make this work.”

So I nestled into his chest and willed myself to believe him.

M
y mother’s baby shower for Trig should’ve been a time of celebration for me as we welcomed my new adorable little brother. Fifty of our closest friends gathered at our friend Barb’s house to eat a potluck meal and a large sheet cake. It was white, decorated with blue icing in the shape of blue booties and a bib with a teddy bear’s face on it.

Because Trig arrived so early, he was actually there, sleeping in my mother’s arms, while she and my dad opened handmade quilts and tiny onesies. As they opened each present and passed them around for people to admire, everyone oohed and aahed. There’s something wonderful about baby clothes and gear, how they conjure the idea of new life and starting out fresh in the world.

With every new present, however, I felt worse.
No one will throw me a baby shower,
I thought.
No one is going to be excited over my pregnancy.
So I tried to look happy—like a sister should—hoping the dread in my heart wouldn’t come out on my face. I plastered on a fake smile, but every precious gift was like a stab in the gut.

No one could tell I was pregnant at the time. Interestingly, I was following in my mother’s footsteps by hiding my pregnancy, but she had very different reasons. (While she was worried about maintaining her difficult job as the governor, I was worried about graduating from high school!) After all of her struggle with having a special-needs child, she finally came to terms with it all when Trig arrived. The baby shower was an opportunity to celebrate this new baby our friends only recently realized was on his way.

“Who in this room has the perfect child?” my mother asked as Trig slept.

Her question was rhetorical, a way of explaining that every kid has what the world might call imperfections. Truth be told, the Palin kids looked pretty together from the outside. Track was a well-respected hockey star, I was a good student, Willow was beautiful, and Piper was . . . well, everyone loved Piper. We all had a role to play, and I (the hardworking, no-nonsense oldest daughter) was about to add another descriptor to my reputation: unwed teen mom.

On that day, however, I wasn’t worried about my reputation around Wasilla. I wasn’t even really worried about how I’d afford diapers (those fears would come later). I was mostly worried about telling my family, who were gathered there in the home of a friend having a sweet time together.

Well, not all of us in Barb’s house were. Willow, who was there with her friend, wanted a stick of gum.

Most people would’ve asked for gum, but my sisters are not “most people.” They don’t have what some psychologists describe as appropriate boundaries. They were forever grabbing my favorite pair of jeans, the best hairbrush, or nail polish or leaving the door to my room wide open. Willow and I were best friends 20 percent of the time, but the other 80 percent we fought like the worst enemies.

Always “in my business”—it was hard to sneeze without them knowing it—Willow stepped outside of Barb’s house, went to my black VW, grabbed my bag, and plunged her hand into it.

But instead of pulling out a sweet minty treat, she found a pregnancy test. Not one, but eight . . . and all of them showed two pink plus signs. Note I didn’t write “positive.” Because I could see nothing positive about my newfound situation.

Willow’s reaction was not a good indicator that things would go smoothly.

“What are you doing in my car?” I yelled as I came out of Barb’s house with my friend Sammy. We were loading up the trunks of our cars with Mom’s presents, and I was shocked when I saw Willow’s head stuck in my car. “Get away from there,” I yelled.

I didn’t have to do an investigation to realize she’d found out my secret. The look on her face—of absolute shock—was enough to tell me all I needed to know.

We honestly didn’t know how to break the news—we wanted to keep it that way at least until we figured out a game plan. We are a Bible-believing, Christian family. How would my parents react when they found out their seventeen-year-old daughter was sexually active? And, by the way, pregnant?

Willow flipped over the pregnancy test and saw the two pink plus marks. How did she react to the news that she was about to become an aunt? Did she congratulate me? Did her eyes fill with tears, knowing what a rough road I’d have ahead?

Hardly.

“I’m going to tell Mom!” she said as I grabbed the test and my brown purse Levi had given me for Christmas from her hands.

That’s when I knew I could no longer keep my secret from my mom and dad.

“You might want to head over to the house,” I said to Levi over the phone on the way home. “And you better be ready for this, because after today I probably won’t have a place to live.”

The drive, only about fifteen minutes, wasn’t long enough for the amount of procrastination I wanted to work into it. I took the long way home, and on the way I called my cousin in Seattle who’d also gotten pregnant out of wedlock when she was eighteen. The daughter she’d had from that pregnancy is a beautiful little girl, the light of her mom’s eye. I thought she might have some advice, so I dialed her number.

“Willow found a pregnancy test in my purse. And she’s gonna tell my mom.”

“I don’t get it,” she said.

“Kandice,” I said with more than a whiff of impatience. “The test is
positive
.”

“Oooohhhh,” she said. Kandice knew the challenges that lay ahead. “Well, you better tell your parents today before Willow does. But make Levi do it.”

“I’m going to make Sammy go with me so my parents won’t yell at me,” I explained.

“Smart,” she said. “But I did it, so you can do it, too.”

Her advice wasn’t helping. My nerves were through the roof.

When we finally pulled into the long gravel driveway, my mom was happily taking all of the sweet presents from the trunk of her vehicle. My dad began mowing the lawn.

I sent Willow and Piper upstairs, took a deep breath, and—finally—began what was undoubtedly the worst moment of my life.

“Mom, get Dad,” I said. “We need to talk.”

We were sitting on a red leather couch. I was in the middle, between Levi and Sammy, and we looked like children who’d just gotten sent to the principal’s office. Willow was upstairs, pressing her face against the railing, trying to eavesdrop.

“What do you want?” She laughed, assuming I was trying to pitch the idea of them buying a truck.

“Mom, this
is
serious,” I said. “It’s not a joke.” When I spoke, my voice cracked a bit, and she knew something was wrong. “You’re not going to be laughing and joking around after I tell you this,” I said.

“Todd!” she yelled out the door. “Come in here!” He’d been mowing the yard, so it took him a bit before he came in the front door.

“What’s going on?” he said.

By this time, I was sobbing.

Dad walked in and sat in the recliner. Mom sat on another couch.

“Well, you’ve got our attention,” Mom said.

I tried to open my mouth to tell her, but it seemed that I physically couldn’t. Tears ran down my face, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

“Bristol, just tell me what’s wrong,” she said. “I can take it. Don’t let us sit here guessing.”

I had no idea what my parents would do when they heard the news, but I was less worried about their reaction than I was worried about disappointing them.

I tried to tell them once again, but the words got caught in my throat.

Sammy, seeing my parents’ look of concern, put her hand on my knee as a signal that she was taking over the proceedings. Then, in one short sentence, my family found out.

“Bristol’s pregnant.”

“You’re joking?” Mom said. It was a knee-jerk reaction to a totally dumbfounding statement.

“Would I be crying if I was joking?” I said through my tears.

They were completely and utterly shocked. I figured they’d never talk to me again. I figured I’d have to live in Grandma’s basement or find a place with Levi. But instead of shame or blame, they immediately started asking me questions about my future.

“Okay,” Mom said. “Let’s figure this out.”

By this time, Levi and I been together for two and a half years. “Well, I think we should get married,” I said. Levi still hadn’t spoken.

Mom nodded at this, but Dad—ever protective—wasn’t about to let me settle.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said, with his hand in the air. “Let’s don’t rush into things.”

I was shocked that they didn’t kick me out, and I was even more shocked that Dad didn’t shoot Levi.

“Let’s take things one at a time,” he said. “What are you going to do about school?”

There in our living room, we talked about how on earth I’d be able to get my high school diploma while carrying, delivering, and taking care of a baby. We talked about Levi getting a job and how I’d deal with living arrangements.

In other words, we talked about my future. They were going to be a part of it, whatever it looked like.

And I was thankful.

I
mmediately, I started taking charge of the whole situation. First, I enrolled myself in homeschool for the first semester of my senior year through an online course. I also started thinking about learning a trade, the fastest skill that would allow me to take care of a baby. Even though this was less than ideal, I wasn’t going to have my son bounced around without a stable family. I wanted him to have the kind of stability I had as a kid. I went to Walmart and bought a sweet crib, one that I had to assemble myself! As I put it together, I was overcome with anticipation about this baby. But I was also thinking that I’d just spent an entire week’s worth of salary from the coffee shop to purchase it.

“I’m going to school,” I said to Levi, who had already dropped out of school. I told him he needed his GED to get any sort of a job.

He agreed and went every day to the building where people prepare for—and take—the test.

One day he came home with a pleased look on his face. “I got it!”

I was so thankful that Levi came through with this one—rather big!—promise. Since Levi was a kid, he tagged along with his dad, an electrician, on wiring and construction jobs. I was thrilled when he got a job as an apprentice electrician in the Milne Point oil field with a major Slope contractor. Even though he worked three weeks on, one week off, I was so proud of him. The fact that he was gainfully employed made the time apart much more bearable. And he seemed to also be trying to cut back on his many expensive hunting trips.

During one day of the “three weeks on,” we were talking on the phone when the subject of baby names came up. We’d always thought about what to name any future babies, but now we really had one to name.

“So what do you want to name the baby for real?” I asked.

Names, as I believe I mentioned, are very important to our family. “Okay. So if we have a boy, I’d love to name him . . . Blaine or Bentley,” I said. I was a little nervous about sharing it with him, because I’d been thinking about that name already for years. “And if it’s a girl, I’d like to name her Blaise or Keeley or Oakley.”

After he suggested some names—all after popular gun brands—he said, “We’re naming him Bentley.”

From that point on, when he’d write me letters from the Slopes, he’d ask, How’s my boy Bentley? He’d even sometimes write directly to Bentley, telling him that he’d already figured out what type of gun he’d buy him and what kind of hunting they’d do together. Once, he wrote, “Bentley, Mom and I will both try to give you a good life. Dad loves you more than anything. I’ll be home soon to love on you! Take it easy on Mom.”