Two and a half years later here I am, 6 months pregnant, 25 years old, moving back in with my parents, barely employed, and broke!
So what happened? Where did I go wrong? Well let me warn you women out there, if you do not want children and are on las pastillas or other type of birth control, be sure to make your hombre wear a rubber! Take no chances! Do not let his beautiful brown eyes hypnotize you. And whatever you do, do not believe him when he says "I just 'came' a little bit," we all know that it takes only one little spermito to make his way to your nice fertile ovaries. Just thinking about it makes me so mad! I wasn't supposed to get pregnant, I was supposed to see the world, live in different countries, have a different life. Be the only Chicana in my family not tied down with children and a family.
So there it is, my stupid mistake. I let my handsome, sexy man persuade me into making love sin barreras, with no barriers. My Abuelita never warned me about the temptation of a man; the way it feels so good to let go and give in. No, the only advice she ever gave me was, "If you don't want kids, then don't open your legs, because sex is not for pleasure, its for making babies!" I used to cringe at this motherly advice, as she began saying this to me as soon as I hit puberty. Sex is not for pleasure? I used to ask myself. Then why were all the girls in high school doing it? They weren't getting pregnant, and they were having sex. So I decided to ask my own mother this question, however I should have asked when my father was not around. I was shot down with angry questions and suspicious eyes, "Why are you asking me? Are you having sex? You better not be having sex! Do you want to have kids hanging from your legs like those ninas sucias I see walking around the streets?" My father just cleared his throat, almost choking on his pollo con papas, and looked away.
My Abulelita also never told me how hard life was going to be, yet how beautiful it is at the same time. How moving in with your parents at 6 months pregnant, is, in a way, embarrassing, yet joyous. Or how you have the ability to hate your husband-to-be one day, yet be so madly in love with him the next. Perhaps she chose to keep the secrets with her because she knew I'd learn from my surrounding family; from my Tias and Tios and their mistakes, or from my own parents mistakes. Or perhaps she knew I'd make my own mistakes. As the only college graduate in my familia, I thought I knew it all; I guess my Abuelita knew that you can't hide from la vida. Love happens, life happens, you just need to go with it and take the failures and accomplishments as they come, one day at a time.