Independence Day holds a significant meaning in my mind, but not for the typical reasons. I am a child born of sin. I suppose I should explain what I mean by that. Well, in that case you'd better get yourself a cup of coffee or tea and sit back. So the story of my life begins... Well, the night of my conception at least.
It's the 4th of July, 1975, early evening. Peggy, mother of six-year-old Jesse, receives a call from her best girlfriend, who invites her over to a small private party to have some drinks and play Gin Rummy, Peggy's favorite card game. It will be a double-date so to speak − her girlfriend and her husband as well as a male friend who's had a crush on her for a long-time. Jim has always treated Peggy with gentlemanly care and even does little chivalrous things like opening doors for her and pushing her seat in as she sits down. He has always been a good friend when she needed one, someone to talk to as well as someone to laugh with. She wound up sleeping with him once a couple of years ago in the throes of passion but decided she didn't want to pursue a romantic relationship with him further since, well, he was married. They agreed to just be friends and enjoyed going out dancing together.
So Peggy finds a babysitter for the night and makes plans to stay overnight at her girlfriend's house. She puts on a nice pair of jeans, ones that make her butt look nice yet hides her wooden left leg, which she lost in a motorcycle accident several years prior. She always wanted to be a professional dancer but never really found the time to devote to it. After the accident she was obviously not able to entertain the thought anymore. Even though this fact is apparent to her she still has no reservations about hitting the dance floor with her friends. She meets strangers often who never even know about her leg. In fact she has such a passionate “boogie” that no one believes her when she tells them she is handicapped. She literally has to pull her pants leg up to prove it. When they see the artificial leg their jaws drop. Then she proceeds to dance them under the table so-to-speak.
But tonight is not a dancing night. It is a quiet, low key night at home with some friends. Just some simple card games and cocktails. It is just after 11pm and Peggy is quite drunk. She feels nauseous and excuses herself from the table to go to the bathroom. She vomits, rinses her mouth out, washes her face and sits down on the fuzzy-lidded toilet for a minute to pull herself together. It's not long before she gets up, straightens her composure in the mirror and opens the bathroom door. She looks up startled to see Jim standing in the hallway waiting for her.
"Oh you need to go? I'm sorry I took so long," she says.
"No, actually I was waiting for you to come out so I could sneak in a little kiss."
He moves in closer and puts his warm hands around her waist, pulls her in close and lays one on her. They kiss for a minute and then he starts to put his hand up her shirt.
"Wait. No, I can't."
"Why not Peg? Don't you want to go upstairs with me?"
"Well sure I do, but it's a bad time for me."
"What do you mean? It's the 4th of July. We're both a little drunk. It's a perfect excuse to have a little fun don't you think?"
"I'm not feeling well Jim. I had too much to drink. And besides I'm betting you didn't bring protection."
"What do we need that for? Don't you trust me? I know what I'm doing."
"Of course I do Jim, but it's the worst time of month for me. I could get pregnant."
"Oh there's ways around that Peg. Come here," he says as he pulls her in tighter. She pushes him away.
"Sorry Jim. Not tonight."
She walks down the hall and around the corner to the dining room table to join her friends again, leaving Jim in the hall looking sad. He returns to the table a few moments later and pours her another drink.
"I've had enough to drink tonight I think," she says pushing it back in his direction.
"Oh come now Peggy. We're not even close to finishing this game. Baby sips girl. You can do it," he says with a grin.
"You're just trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me," she says back in rebuttal.
"I'd say you're doing a good job of that yourself. What's one more going to do? Baby sips," he says back, still grinning.
She takes a sip and plays the three deuces in her hand. It's Jim's turn now and he plays the last deuce off of Peggy's play. It approaches midnight and Peggy still hasn't finished her drink. She is nodding off, obviously about to pass out. Her girlfriend says, "Peggy, you alright? Want to go to bed?"
"Mmmnnnnyyyes. Nnnyes I do," she slurs.
"Ok well the bed is all set up for you upstairs. Do you need a hand getting up there?" says her girlfriend.
"May…be," she says trying to stand, but stumbling. Jim stands to help her.
"Here Peggy, let me help. Take my arm. OK, I gotcha."
He helps her up the stairs to the bedroom, slowly and carefully. She falls back on the bed. He helps her take her shoes and socks off. The room is spinning wildly.
"Do you want to sleep in your clothes Peg?" he asks.
"Mmnot really."
"Should I help you get out of those tight jeans of yours?"
"Ummmm… no funny business OK?"
"OK Peg. They do make your butt look so nice you know."
He unsnaps her waist, unzips her pants and wiggles them down her legs as she lifts her butt so he can get them off. He loosens the straps on her artifical leg and slips it off. He unbuttons her blouse and tells her to roll over so he can get it and her bra off. She does.
"OK now put your legs under the covers Peg," he says lifting the sheet and blanket up for her. She does and he tucks her in.
"Thanks you Jimmy-boy," she says with a smile and promptly passes out.
She awakens. Something's not right.
Why is Jim on top of me? Oh my God he's inside me!
"Jim! Stop!" she exclaims, still drunk. Everything is spinning. She tries to push him off but is too weak. He holds her arms down and keeps going.
"Jim, I told you NO!" she manages to shout. But it's no use. He's already at his climax.
Fireworks start going off outside.
He rolls off of her. There is a moment of uncomfortable silence.
"I can't believe you did that Jim. I can't believe…"
She passes out again.
She wakes up in the morning and Jim is gone. She's not sure if what happened really happened or if she just dreamed it. She gets dressed and goes out to the kitchen to get some coffee.
Three weeks pass. She wakes up Monday morning to her alarm. She gets up to get ready for work. She doesn't feel well at all. She goes to the bathroom and hangs her head over the toilet. She vomits. She takes a shower and goes on with her day. "I HAVE to work today. I can't afford to lose the money."
The next morning the same thing happens. She begins to wonder why she is still sick, and why it's only right after she wakes up. "Oh no!" she thinks. "Morning sickness. I'm pregnant."
****************
This is a true account of my conception based on my mother's testimony of what happened that night 42 years ago. Some of the details had to be embellished for it to be written the way it is, but this does not take away from the accuracy and impact of the truth. It was difficult for me to imagine and even more painful to accept. This testimony has been part of my healing process. I look back at how dedicated my mother was in many important areas of my life. She worked hard to keep her children well-fed and clothed. She took us to church and introduced us to Christianity. She taught me some very valuable lessons. I always wondered what she meant when she told me about my father the first time saying, "Fireworks were going off for somebody..."Although I can't say she made the right moves in every situation growing up I can look back and thank God that she didn't have an abortion. So many women today would seriously consider it after being raped, even if they were partly to blame for putting themselves in a sinful situation. I'm not sure what value this would hold for you the reader but I pray that if there is an expecting mother out there considering aborting her baby after a rape I would encourage you to look at the blessing God has given to you and turn something incredibly wicked into something beautiful. Honor God by keeping the life He has given you.
Let your baby have its Independence Day.
Some of the most beautifully poetic passages in the Bible speak of the miracle of life:
For you formed my inward parts;
you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.
-Psalm 139:13-16
you knitted me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
Wonderful are your works;
my soul knows it very well.
My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me,
when as yet there was none of them.
-Psalm 139:13-16
I feel the same way & I always have. I know it has to be painful, but we never know what a blessing the baby could be to someone else. Even if it's too painful to keep the baby, don't snuff out its life, it could be the answer to a loving couple's prayer for a child. I know the child in this story was & still is a blessing
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