I ran down the stairs waving my pregnancy test excitedly. “Emily, Aron, Ryan! It came out positive!” Emily ran over to me and grabbed the test out of my hand. “It’s true!” she exclaimed and threw her arms around my neck. “I’m going to be an aunt!” Aron pushed Emily aside, grabbed me up in his arms, and swung me around the living room. “I love you so much!” he cried. Aron had wanted children with me for years but never pushed me to have his child because he knew I was terrified of having a child of my own. I had a list of reasons I had compiled over the years as to why I shouldn’t have a child: I only had one functioning kidney, I was anorexic and couldn’t handle the baby weight, I was in college, I was trying to further my career; the list went on and on. But the biggest fear I had and the real reason I was afraid to have a baby was because I was afraid to turn into Mom. I had spent much of my life trying to figure out why Mom was the way she was. I prayed to God for answers, I read thousands of articles on mental disorders and tried to diagnose Mom on my own, and I spent numerous nights reliving abusive experiences with Aron trying to figure out what may have set her off.
