6/1/2012- I was emotionally spent last night after my blog. I had never shared that piece that I wrote with anyone, not even my husband. Every day through this whole nightmare, I wanted to write what had happened each day, what Scott went through, what I was thinking, what I was feeling. I would get two seconds to myself, start typing then start crying. I didn't want to recap what happened. I didn't want to go through it once, let alone document it and  go through it over and over again. It amazes me that there are people these days that have the courage and strength to do that.

It's been 8 months and I still have an extremely difficult time talking about it. I've learned the automated response when someone would ask how I was doing. "I'm good and you?" I guess because I have never dealt with any of the pain and emotion. I had to stay strong, keep a level head and make sure Scott was getting the medical attention he needed to survive and heal. I had Scott to take care of, Matthew to take care and  I had a 14 year old daughter all alone in North Carolina, basically living with people I really didn't know. It turned out that those people have become an integral part of her life and ours and are just involved today as they were then. Again, angels.

I need to stay focused though on the task at hand and tell our story. So its back to the early months of 1991.  In the racing scene, and especially in Michigan, there isn't a whole lot to do in January and February. Scott was so into hunting, fishing and racing. When the sprint cars were put away for the season, the hunting season expired and when there wasn't enough ice to fish that only left one thing to do...snuggle up.  Well, that snuggling turned my world upside down.  In late February, I was late. And I don't mean late for an appointment. And I puked, alot. Especially in the morning. I made that daunting trip to the pharmacy to purchase "the stick". "The stick" was going to decide my future and in a big hurry.  That was probably the most nerve racking moment of my life. Time stood still. When they advertise "test results in less than 30 seconds, 99% accuracy", they were not lying! Shit, are you kidding me? The big plus sign appeared. My life, or so I thought, was over.

I cried everyday for 5 days straight on the shoulder of my good friend, Donna. I had no clue what I was going to do. What would Scott say? What would my parents say? I was only 18 and back then there were no glorified "Teen Mom" shows. It was NOT cool to be a single, teenage mom. Donna was married to Scott's step-mom's brother (it gets complicated, pay attention) but she was and still is a very good friend and I could call her right now and she would be here for me. To me, at that time, she was smarter than me, knew all about kids and married life because she was already doing it. She asked me three very important, yet simple questions: "Have you told your parents?", Who's is it?" and "Do you love him?" The answers were just as easy as the questions: Hell no, Scott's and yes.

She wiped my tears, hugged me and told me to go tell those who mattered. She told me I couldn't do this alone, that my parents would still love me and support me and Skippy (Scott's nickname) would too. I wasn't so sure about any of that. And would soon learn later, that not everyone was as excited as her.
I wasn't sure which conversation was going to be harder, the one with my dad or the one with the father of my baby. I think I cried and puked alot for several more days until I had the nerve to tell either of them.

My father is quite possibly the hardest working man on the planet. Every decision that he ever made was to provide a better life for my mother, my sister and I. He gave us everything he possibly could. I felt so guilty knowing that I was going to let him down again. I had already quit college, against his wishes, was dating some wild racing guy and had no plans for my future other than going racing. Not exactly what he had in mind for me. Looking back now, dropping a bombshell on your Daddy after he worked 12 hours that day, probably wasn't a good idea. But I had to say it sooner or later.

He was in the kitchen making an unsweet tea after a long day of work. I nonchalantley sat down and made small talk, asked him how is day was. One thing about my dad and I, he knows when something is up and I cannot lie to the man. He intently looked at me and asked me what was going on. Oh God, here goes..I am pretty sure I just blurted out, "Dad, I'm pregnant."  I watched his face age as the seconds went by, waiting for his response. His response wasn't exactly what Daddy's little girl wanted to hear. He flat out told me, "No man will want you now, you are a package deal." I was crushed. My heart sank and I think I puked again. If he felt that way, what would Scott say? Would I really be all alone? Would Scott not want me? I was completely terrified to tell Scott.

Luckily for me, I actually got the chance to one time, just one time, prove my dad wrong. It's been almost fourty years and I have only gotten one time to prove him wrong. He is my rock.