My story starts ten months ago to the day. By all standards, it was the most normal of days. Our family is not like all other families. We are different because my mother has homeschooled me and my little brother since we were very young. Now, before you jump to any conclusions, I was not strange or odd. I was not unsocialized or weird. The reason that I chose to remain homeschooled through my high school career was that I had started a successful business and was about to have my first successful novel published and I had no desire to abandon that to make a few friends and deal with teachers that did not care if I succeeded or failed. So my mother teaches me and my brother. I take two courses at my community college and another one online. Additionally, i teach creative writing classes at a co-op for homeschoolers. Next year I will be a senior in high school, and the year after that, I will begin college. I plan on going to college and then law school. So, you can see that I am not any more strange than any other person on this planet is.
Now, back to the main point of my story. It was a normal day. I was sitting on the couch next to my mother and we were working on a tricky problem in math. I cannot remember what kind of math it was, but I know that it should not have been too difficult for my mother who has been teaching me for nearly all of my time in school. That was when she began to do something completely foreign to me. She began to cry. I was so stunned. I had no idea what to do because I had no idea what was wrong. So I asked her what was wrong. What else could I have done?
I remember it very clearly what she said to me.
"I am pregnant." Her answer stunned me so thoroughly that I had nothing to say right away. She only said those three words before she began to cry again. All I could do was hug her and say that it would be okay. It seemed the impossible had suddenly become very possible to our little family. It had always just been me, my brother, my father, and my mother. It seemed so strange that it was all going to change so suddenly. After the longest time, all she says is, "What am I going to do?"
I did not know. All I knew was that my mother had said very adamantly that she wanted no more children. She would not have been able to handle the stress, both mental and physical. When I had that thought, I realized that it could be a very real possibility that my mother could get an abortion. I knew that she did not believe in that, but would that really matter when faced with the possibility of spending the next eighteen years of her life raising a child she did not want and had not planned for? How could anyone expect her to commit to that? So I asked her the most logical question that I could think of at the time.
"What do you want to do?" I asked it so softly that I was not sure if I had even spoken it. When my mother replied, my heart broke, because I knew that she was right. After dedicating her whole life to me and my brother, there is no way that she would want to raise a third child at fifty years old. 
"There is no way that I can raise another child. It would kill me." After those words were spoken, it hit me like a lightning bolt. I would raise the baby from the day he or she was born. I could do it.
"Mom," I said, "have you told Dad?"
"No, how can I? What would he say? What are we going to do?" Before I knew what I was doing, I was already speaking.
"Mom, listen to me." I spoke so urgently and seriously that she stoped crying and just listened to my voice. "Before you say anything listen to what I have to say and seriously consider it." I than told her my plan. The words found their way to my mouth so naturally and easily. It was like it was meant to be. Like some divine force was putting my words into my mouth for me. I told her how we would sign the adoption papers before she ever left the hospital. I told her that I would be the baby's sole guardian. I told her how by the time she had the baby in the following fall, I would be eighteen. I would be old enough to be the baby's legal mother. When I was finished, every possible detail planned out in less than fifteen minutes, my mother looked at me, her eyes meeting mine. They were shiny with tears, but I knew that she was seeing clearly when she said the word I had been praying for. She said okay. We hugged and I knew that I had done the right thing. I was so inexplicably happy that I did not know what to do with myself. It was decided that she would tell my father that night when he got home from work. We would make sure that he was okay with the plan, but my mother knew he would be. He did not want a baby any more than she did. Not when they were both so close to retirement and doing the things that they had wanted to do for so many years, but could not because of kids and work.
The thing was, I was young. I could take care of a baby. I would be able to raise a child. I had money. I had a job. I would have a successful career. I would be a mom. I did not care that I would miss out on the crazy college parties and the drinking late at night because I had to come home and care for a baby. I would never have considered doing those things anyway. I was boring and safe. I would never do anything that would put my future at risk. I was going to be a successful author and lawyer. I would get married. I would have my own children. A baby would not change any of this. I would just have another reason to work even harder for that future that I so desperately wanted.
The strange thing about that day was that the after the conversation that changed all of our lives for better or worse was over, we went back to the math problem. I went to my classes that afternoon. Nothing had changed, yet everything was different.
That night when my father pulled in to the garage, I remember that I was reading a story for my English class. I loved reading just as much as I loved writing. It was six PM when he got home. Regretfully, I closed the book and shut off the music that was pumping through my iPhone headphones. I distinctly remember taking a deep breath before opening the door to my bedroom. All day, I had been trying to push the thought of this conversation out of my mind in order to focus on my classes and homework. I was relieved at the thought off getting this conversation over with. Although I had never been very religious, I whispered a tiny prayer that this conversation would go as my mother and I hopped it would. So much depended on it.
I met my mother and father in the living room. My brother was at his friends house for a sleepover he had been planning for weeks. He is fourteen. My mother has a cup of steaming tea in her hands and my father looks extremely worried. I come into the room. I wish that I knew what my face looked like. I hope that it looked calm and collected, but I don't know for sure. I sit down on the couch on the seat next to my mother. The only thing that I can remember for certain was that I gave her a small nod. Mom then told my father about the baby and about our plan. After she said the word baby, he seemed so scared. I had no idea what his next reaction would be. To both my and my mother's surprise. His face washed over in complete and utter relief. He then looked at me and asked something that I will never forget in a million years.
"Katie, I need to know. Are you sure that you want this? I am not asking if you think that you can handle this. I am asking you if you are one hundred percent sure that you want this baby. This will change everything. I need to know right now if you are as committed to this as if he or she was growing inside of you. We cannot plan on you taking the baby and then have you go back on your word."
"I want the baby," I said with a strength and intensity that I did not know I possessed.
"Okay then," says my father. He got up from his place on the adjacent couch and came over the couch my mother and I were sharing. He sat down between us and took my mom's hand in his. She began to cry and they embraced. I knew at that point it was time for me to leave the living room. I slowly got up from the couch and went upstairs to my bedroom. I had quietly closed the door. It hit me hard then, when I was all alone in my bedroom. I had made a decision that I could not go back on. A decision that I knew that I would never go back on. I was going to have a child of my own as sure as if I was the one who was pregnant. I went over to my mirror and checked my face. It had been patchy and red. I took several deep breaths and left my room, car keys in hand. I needed to get out of the house and go somewhere I could think alone.
I told my parents that I was going to go out and get dinner. Whether they believed me or not, I do not know. All I know is that I made sure I was composed before I said one word to them. I would have be strong. I had made a decision, one that I was happy about, and I would stick with it. The problem, I knew, would come when I was trying to sleep after a long day of school, work, and writing my next novel and the baby would not stop crying in the middle of the night. I had gotten in my car and put the music on. Not loud, but loud enough to drown out the thoughts in my head. There would be plenty of time for that in the months to come.
That night, I stopped at some fast food restaurant and bought something completely unhealthy. I remember not caring that it was total junk. All I could think about was how the baby was going to change everything. Not in a bad way, but I knew that once he or she was born, nothing would ever be the same again. The good thing about pregnancy is it gives you nine months to prepare. Nine months to save your money. Nine months to tell people that you re going to be a mother.
There were so many things to do, and yet there was nothing that I could do, not quite yet. On the drive back home, I was thinking about the nursery. There was an empty bedroom that we used if relatives came to stay with us. It would be perfect for my baby. So strange, I thought at the time, how quickly my mother's baby became my baby in my mind.
I arrived home at just after eight thirty that night. I had been exhausted, but I had still had a lot of homework to finish that night. I went up to my bedroom and worked until about two AM.

AN: Thank you so much for trying out my story! I hope you enjoy. I deeply appreciate every vote and comment!
Thank you!!
~Kat