When I was 17 my daughter Beth was born. The moment my sweet girl rested in my arms the worrying started. It was as if a tiny switch inside my body flipped on, and I realized I was now responsible for another human being. But even stronger than maternal instinct was love. I had never known such shear bliss in my short life. I thought my heart would surely break from the weight of it.
That love carried me through months of no sleep, through firsts and lasts; smiling, laughing, walking, teething and potty training. Through the terrible twos, threes and fours, through joy and pain. Love even held firm through 13 years of home schooling.
Love hovered over us, protecting us like Angel’s wings through all the years of Beth’s childhood. A constant whisper in my ear telling me that with love anything was possible; with love even a teenager could be a good mom. Not perfect but good.
My Beth is now 19 and wants to be a doctor. A doctor! When she told me this news I was first and foremost overwhelmed with pride. Then fear settled into the pit of my stomach. How on Earth are we going to afford pre-med and then medical school? I felt the room spinning and had to sit down and catch my breath. I knew that even the best students don’t get all the money they need. How could I make this dream come true for my child with out going bankrupt??
Then just as I thought I would cry, I became calm. In a flash 19 years was gone and I was back in that hospital bed, 17 years old and holding my baby in my arms. Every precious memory of Beth’s childhood came back to me in a rush.
I knew than that everything would be ok. Yes, it will be hard and expensive and aggravating. But you know what? So was bringing up a child as a teenage mom. And I think Beth and I came out ok.
So now every time I start to hyperventilate over the rising cost of tuition and books I pull out Beth’s childhood photos and I remember how far we have come. Then I thank Heaven for Beth and for love.
Beth and I on day one, 1988
Beth and I on day 6,918 (July 2007)

