...and the crazy motherhood cycle continues...

I have just this moment found out that one of my library babies, one of the first ones that I got really close to, is going to have her own baby.
My head is reeling. I honestly feel faint. This VERY young lady is an amazing artist. She did a huge portrait of me at my desk that not only was in her very first art show, but won an award and touched my heart eternally. When she wanted to drop out of school her freshman year, her mother recruited me to help talk her out of it, and she stayed in. She was dealing with anxiety and agoraphobia issues, and she got some treatment for that, too. That helped with school.
I talked to her about going to on to college, at least Community College, or tech school and working on her art and computer skills, and about seeing some world and some life. I remember saying "before you settle down here with some redneck guy* and have a bunch of babies, get out first - THEN come back and do all that if you still want to..."

I guess I knew. I've thought about it many times since she started dating this guy - the first guy she ever really seriously dated. And I realize now that the last couple of times I saw her, there was a tiny little niggling question at the back of my mind... I realize now that I knew she was. I wonder why she hasn't told me. Maybe she thought I'd be disappointed - and I am... but not in her. Just disappointed for her, I suppose. But I know I shouldn't be. Her friends, who are all a good bit older, are marrying and having babies. If she is happy, then I am happy. Who am I to judge what "having a life" is? I sincerely hope and pray that this IS the life she wants. And maybe, when the baby is older, she will return to her art...
...and I guess the fear of that not happening is really where my disapointment lies - or at least a big part of it.

When I first came here, she was a pre-teen. Snub-nosed, freckle-faced, shy. Now the library is four years old (as of Dec. 1), and this little girl is more than half-a-year younger than my own baby mother was she had me.
Goddess bless her, goddess bless the baby - goddess bless us all.
-s

*not an insult, she like me, knows who she is and where she comes from and is proud of that