Unwed Amish Teen
That happens? A bit of clarification on that. The women I refer to grew up Amish and are suspended
in the stage of development called Rumspringa or “ Running Around”. This tradition among the Amish community begins
when an adolescent turns 16. During this time teens are free of all the rules
and regulations of the church. They live
at home with their parents but are free to do as they please. The idea behind the practice, is
that giving freedom allows the individuals to experience the “world” to better
prepare them for the choice of baptism and joining the Amish church.
The
liberated teenagers experiment with driving, alcohol, technology, popular
fashion, and sex. There is a continuum of how extreme this experimentation is
lived out. Technically
these pregnant teens in my class are not Amish. But culturally they are. So “Unwed Amish Teen” is the term I use to distinguish them from my other students.
What: One night
Childbirth Prep Class
When: August 18 6-9 pm
Where: My basement
family room
I busily prepared my home to host this group of unique
expectant parents. Looking at my
housekeeping through the critical eye of an Amish woman I eliminate the kitchen
counter clutter, sweep the carpets, and clean the mirrors.
I arranged the furniture in my basement family room so that
the two couples could see my marker board and the television. DVD player queued up by my 11 year old son, materials
assembled, content organized I was prepared for the evening class to arrive.
It’s 6:02 on my iPhone screen. I anticipate an early arrival common for the
first night of childbirth class, not so tonight. Two buggies slowly made their
way thru my cul-de-sac and to the neighbor’s hitching post. Relief!
They didn't back out.
Forty seconds later my relief flopped into the pit of my
stomach and became a ball of nerves.
Each buggy held a couple. One is a
young couple dressed in the Amish garb, she with swollen belly and he clean shaven baby
faced- an overgrown boy. Exiting the
other buggy is a mid-life Amish man with beard and suspenders. As he ties his
buggy horse to a nearby tree, his wife climbs down. Clearly they are not the
other expectant couple I was anticipating, but the parents of the pregnant
teen.
I paced back into the kitchen where my husband and three
children were finishing up their supper.
“There is an Amish dude with a beard and he looks like he is 40, and he
is coming up the drive.” My husband and
children stared blankly back at me, they don’t understand my agitation. So I
try again, “Her parents came along! The
teen mom, father of the baby and HER PARENTS- her AMISH PARENTS!”
*Deep Breath* “Its okay Betsy, you know your stuff, if you act comfortable
and calm they will be to. This doesn't have to be a disaster.” the pep talk flashed through my mind.
Another deep breath and I was out the front door to meet
them coming up the sidewalk with a smile and welcoming handshake. Upon introduction I remembered that it was
the mother that had called to ask about the class on behalf of her daughter.
She had even asked if she could come along as she would be the one supporting
her daughter during the labor and birth.
Stupid me, it should have been obvious that if the mother comes the
father would come too. Amish women don’t
go to meetings without the accompaniment of their husbands. I shouldn't be so shocked that they actually
did show up. Still this is a first for me.
We stood on my front walk introducing and small talking,
waiting for the other couple to arrive.
As I visited with the parents, over their shoulder I noticed a beater
car driving a bit too fast down the road.
He hit the brakes, spun a cloud of dust and managed to come to a stop
safely in my drive. Now this, this is much more what I was expecting. The driver stepped out dressed as a
traditional American teen: jeans with holes, an Under Armour shirt, and a swoop
of blond bangs across his face, cell phone in pocket. His passenger in the car, Jolene, stepped out
in a lovely bright blue Amish dress and bright white covering. Her carefully sculpted eyebrows framed her
matching blue eyes. When she smiled I saw her teeth were as white as her
covering. Her tanned face glowed with a
touch of the end of pregnancy puff in her cheeks.
We all filed past my family now done eating their supper and
clearing the table, to the basement.
I quickly arranged more seating and grabbed a few extra books. Surprisingly they visited with each other
with ease. The presence of the older
couple seemed to set me on edge more than the others.
I start out with my large posters displaying the magnificent
uterus containing a growing baby and begin to explain the intricate details of
placentas, amniotic fluid and mucus plugs.
As I teach, I make an effort to make eye contact with
everyone individually. Eye contact or
lack of gives me a good feel for how comfortable they are with the
content. Are they tuned in and invested
or grossed out and uncomfortable? When I
lock eyes with Jolene she stops me and asks me some detailed questions about
the working of the placenta.
–"YES! She is with me here. So I have at least one person tuned in", I think.
Next I glance up to
see the parents nodding and looking at each other and smiling. The father shares how helpful it was for him
to take a childbirth class when they were expecting their own first child 18
years ago. “I have always been grateful
to understand how it all works.”
-"Sweet Jesus- I never get this
much affirmation or dialogue with my other groups of properly married folks!" Does my smile give away my excitement?
As I rolled through the anatomy of pregnancy and birth it
became obvious the fathers of the baby were both extremely uncomfortable. The sweet teen boy with swoopy bangs gives me
a shy smile when I make a joke about not passing out when the baby is born. The second teen father has removed his flip
flops and is spinning himself side to side on my office chair, the booklet open
in his lap and his eyes glued to it.
-"This guy- Baby daddy #2 does not want to be here, and likely does not
want this baby. I’m too quick to
judge him. Too harsh. Really, how would I feel attending a childbirth
class with my future father-in-law? He needs grace. I’ll get him to
make eye contact with me and smile yet. We've got two hours left." It's surprising how my own inner dialogue ticks along as I teach.
The words are rolling out of my mouth now. Like muscle memory I can explain the dilating
and thinning of the cervix without even thinking. I've got the silly putty out, a warm humid
room makes it challenging for me to keep it under my control. My baby doll in one hand the silly putty
cervix in the other, I apply a 4 cm dilated cervix to the crown of the baby’s
head. Working methodically through the
progression of contractions and changing cervix I can’t help but notice that
everyone in the room is entranced in what I am saying. All but baby daddy #2. Still barefoot, he has turned his chair away
from me and is facing his girlfriend on the couch beside him. Her right hand is extended and touching him
on his knee.
-"Hmmm, maybe things aren't so bleak for this couple after all. Wish
I had a chance to get the back story- are they in love? Is he good to her? Will
he support her once the baby is born? Do they plan to get married?", I'll likely never know.
“And now it’s the moment you have all been waiting for….the
birth video.” New level of awkwardness-
the next 10 minutes these three couples will sit before my large 46 inch tv
while a woman moans and sways through her labor. Although the laboring woman is moderately
dressed, she will be pushing a baby out of her vagina- while we watch. My students tolerate the scenario well. The grandparents-to-be, who I am sure haven’t
ever watched anything on a screen this big, appear to be fascinated with the
unfolding birth. On my right the boy
with the blond swooping bangs is a bit pale, but holding his girlfriend’s
hand. Flushed cheeked and sipping her
ice water his girlfriend has a solid grip on his hand.
Baby Daddy #2 noisily crunches his pretzels as the woman
on the screen slips into the tub of water ready to push out her baby. He is swaying again the way my 4 year old
does when he sits in a swivel chair.
Left to right, back to the left- without even knowing he is doing
it. He feels me watching him, slows the
swiveling office chair to a stop, but doesn't dare make eye contact. Still
crunching pretzels.
-"I see why her mother is here tonight and planning to be the labor support for her daughter. Baby daddy #2 is not up for the task alone. I wonder how characteristic this kind of family support is during an unexpected teen pregnancy?", I've seen this video a hundred times its a nice break for my voice.
Drawing near to 9 pm it is time to wrap up. Question and answer time rarely takes five
minutes. The grand-dad to be expresses
his awe in all we have discussed. “We
attended a class when we were expecting her (touches daughter’s elbow) and have
four children- but I still learned a lot tonight.” Smiling he turns to his
wife. Holding his gaze she adds, “It has
been so long since I've thought on birthing.
This will be so helpful for us when her time comes.” Leaning forward her gaze lands on her
daughter’s swollen belly and smiles weakly.
-I'm glad they came, somehow their presence added an ease to the group vibe.
“My mom had 13 babies, many of my sisters have children
already-so I thought I knew about birthing.” Says Jolene the Amish maiden
dressed in blue. “But I learned a lot
and it makes more sense. I’m not so
scared now.” Her boyfriend, still holding her hand smiles at me and at her but
doesn't say anything. Later on he speaks
his first and only words to me as he pays me with a crisp bill. “Thanks for having us, it was good.”
As the September days pass I instinctively look to the Birth Announcements in my local paper scanning for their names. I expect a text message birth announcement from Jolene. I'm disappointed, I never did get baby daddy #2 to make eye contact.
