A Walterism Journey

  • Going on 17 years…

    Today hits different. I have come to realize my daughter will soon turn the age I was when I had her. I wanted to reflect so I started writing. This is a huge milestone. I’m not sure who will read this, but I hope whoever does knows that God does work in crazy ways. It’s not an accident you are here.

    I don’t remember the details like I guess I should. Dates, times, etc. it’s all just a blur. I remember being sick with the “flu”. I was at work telling a coworker how it was weird I was sick but felt fine. That moment was the first time someone whispered the “p” word. I just thought no….that can’t be right. 

    A few days passed and I couldn’t shake the feeling. I went to the one person who I knew would do what needed to be done. My grandma. She was a no bullsh*t kind of lady who after hearing me out, made a plan. This must be where I get it, ask anyone today, I love a good plan. She took me straight to the Dr…you know the rest. 

    It was morning when I found out, grandma was taking me home when we spotted my mom at the bank 🤦🏻‍♀️ as much as she planned, what happened next was definitely NOT part of that plan. She whipped her little Geo Metro into Central Bank’s parking lot on North 5. I started crying immediately. I couldn’t open the door, don’t worry grandma did that for me, mom was looking at me, I still couldn’t speak, grandma did that for me too, “Congrats grandma”. I was mortified.

    My mom didn’t speak to me for what seemed liked forever. Although I was grateful for my grandma, she ripped off the bandaid and got it over with. I should have asked why she did it the way she did. After all, she once stood in my mom’s shoes. This was a generational thing….a curse really. Maybe she delivered the news to my mom the way my mom did as pay back or maybe she did it the way she wanted to be told. Like I said, I never asked. I was living in my own kind of hell. The why and how seemed ridiculous in hindsight. 

    I would relive all my actions over and over for the next 9 months. The complexity of teen pregnancy is overwhelming. More credit should be given to the women who come out on the other side strong, successful bada*s bosses. The mine field I roamed these past 16 years is the ultimate testimony. I went from not liking kids to being responsible for one. Let alone 3 going on 4 of them. Delay after delay, roadblocks, u-turns…it seems like it took me forever to get on with my life. 

    Although I could write a book on my journey, which I might one day, remember bada** boss here, I will sum it up by saying this: No matter the circumstance, no matter the challenge, adversity, bad luck, wrong turns, bad ideas, whatever you want to call it…IT DOES NOT DEFINE YOU. Your response does, so make it a good one. 

    I chose Kendall. I chose that path. I chose everything that happened to and for me. I was wrong 90% of the time. I continued to make bad choices. At one point I was measuring my success by the fact that my child was still breathing. Sometimes I still do! I say I’m successful, I say I’m a bada**…trust me how I measure that is not how you would or the next person or the next. It has nothing to do with the money I’ve made, the businesses I have/continue to build or my survival over the past 16 years, but everything to do with perspective. If you want to be successful, you must first practice it. If you want to be a bada**, you have to practice at being one. 

    Years of gossip, being told I was ruining my life, being told I would succumb to the generational curse of my family, or that I would never amount to anything…🖕🏼. <— This is what it looks like to practice being a bada**. Despite the adversity, be who YOU know you can be. This will take time. It won’t happen with just a snap of a finger. You have to wake up everyday and choose to be better than the day before. You have to understand the weight of breaking curses falls on you. You now have a child looking up at you, waiting and learning from you. How do you want her/him to respond? Mine? She’s going on 17 and believe me I’m raising a strong, independent woman who will go on to break her own barriers. She takes crap from no one. She’s a little mouthy but overall speaks truth. How can I be mad at raising the best version of myself?! She’s not perfect, she just got off of being grounded for a month with no car or phone, for doing what I can only refer to as being stupid. My hope is she learned from it, how will I know? I guess time will tell. My goal is to provide a space for her to make stupid decisions. Punishment here isn’t to deter her from telling us the truth but to give her opportunities to learn from her mistakes. She knows there will be consequences but she also knows this is her safe place. I take pride in the fact she holds nothing back. She tells me things that sometimes I would be ok not knowing. She does this without pause, without fear and believe me I am grateful! When she asks for the room I give it to her, I listen, then I give my non judgmental opinion through the lens of her mom. You’ll often hear her say “my mom would kill me if I said that or did that”. It makes me laugh, I have no clue where this came from, I’ve never attempted to do any such thing. I do however put the fear of God in her. I will often say she better get right with the man upstairs because she might be seeing him sooner than she thinks. Maybe she takes it as me threatening her, it serves its purpose. If this is what she has to tell herself or what she hears every time she finds herself in a bad situation. I’m cool with it. 

    Anywho, back on topic. Unfortunately, it took me 16 years to learn how to function as a parent. They never tell you as a teen mom you’re still growing up. So really you’re growing up with your child. Children raising children. I get it now. I’ve made many mistakes along the way. I’m not perfect. I often tell my kids they can just send me their therapy bills when they’re adults. 🤷🏻‍♀️ 

    How ever you measure success is really up to you. If you want it to be measured by money, no one is stopping you. If you want it to be measured by the amount of good you put back into this world, go ahead. For me, it’s a combination of how I carry myself, react to situations, my personal growth, seeing my kids grow up and meeting their potential, doing good, being the kindest version of myself (people take my honesty as being mean…their problem, not mine), etc. It’s never going to be measured by one single factor. I wake up every morning smelling success for the day, whether I accomplish it or not, eh. Your path is yours to make. To all the teen moms, you’re not the first and you won’t be the last in this situation. The glass ceiling doesn’t get raised because you made a questionable decision (I won’t say mistake, give God some credit 😉) just make sure you bring your heels everyday…that glass your knocking down may damage your pedicure.

    Now to the Moms of the Teen Moms:

    I am in no way out of the woods of breaking our generational curse. Far from it. I trust in the principles I have planted in my children. So if it happens…I know my daughters/sons will go on to be the best version of themselves despite the road blocks. 

    Trust in your parenting, trust the process and please take your time to come to terms with what is happening. As much work as God is putting into your teenager, he is putting the same work into you. His daily bread is plenty and will be forever. Pray. Rest in knowing he has you, has her/him, has this situation and will continue to provide, this is his promise. Trust me, as a far from perfect Christian, he has shown up in my life in more ways than any one person ever could! 

    “Congrats, G”

    -Nicole, a teen mom, college grad, business owner, now a blog writer, bada** 😉 the list will continue…

  • One Year later…

    One Year later…

    Ella Grace will be one soon.

    I have dreaded this week the entire year she has been gone. The battle you experience as a parent who loses a child is…evil. It’s a raw, feral response to an unnatural event. Outliving a child is the worst situation to be in and one that you can never escape. You will never make sense of it, you can never outrun it, it will never let you sleep peacefully. I cannot dream of a life with Ella in it and if I do it’s the worse torture you can imagine. I woke up Monday from a dream with her in it and I paid for it by spending the morning curled up in a ball, staring out the window. It’s not fair.  

    Benjamin picks flowers for Ella. He still talks about her in a way that keeps her present. He’s the best kind of medicine for a life-long hell I will never escape. How, as a parent, do you move on? 

    Short answer: you don’t. I am a member of a club filled with men and women who mourn every day, who feel what I feel every day, who survive every day.  

    I walk through life with a different perspective today than I did a year ago. During Ella’s life, a whole eight days, we fought for her. We advocated for her. Chris and I gave her peace only parents can give. I NEVER ask myself what if. That’s a kind of evil I won’t let in. I trusted the process, I trusted the Dr’s and the tests, I trusted my knowledge and instincts. I advocated for Chris. I wanted him to understand what was happening. I knew before he did. I asked the Dr’s to talk to him during our meetings, not me. Over eight days my world shattered. So did his.  

    On April 28th we said goodbye. On that day I trusted in God. I’m not a religious person. I am far from being the Christian I would like to be. I am flawed. To this day, I struggle with church and the concept of him, but I still trust him. I trust Ella is with him and everyone else who has preceded us. It’s because of this trust I can walk, talk, work…live. How is it someone, who has so many questions about God’s existence, trust him so much?! This is faith in the rawest form. Maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about, maybe I will never understand it. Do I really need to? Nope. I find peace trusting him. I find peace talking to him and to Ella. I may be sad, but my faith gives me peace.  

    Of this 12-step program for our little “club”, I’m still on step 1. I will probably be here the rest of my life. I have no clue what the steps are but I’m assuming each one brings its own level of hell. Moral of this reflection: don’t give up, have faith that something bigger than you exists and allow yourself some peace by giving whatever it is torturing you to that something bigger. It will save you.  

    I want to take you on my journey, however, I’m not ready. I kept a journal for the first 10 days after Ella passed away. It helped me to write my feelings down and let them go. It was my conversation with God. It was me giving all that grief to him.  At the end of those journal entries, I knew I would be ok. Spoiler alert: he answered back.  

    Until the day comes when I am ready. I want to share the letter I wrote to Ella.

    Dear Ella, 

    From the moment I knew of you I planned. I planned on what kind of personality you would have and who you would resemble the most or act like the most. Now that you have came and gone my plans are no more. The hardest part of losing you is realizing I will never know the answers to my questions. I’ll never get the privilege of seeing you grow up. Things like birthdays and milestones I can only dream of now.  

    I picture you on your first birthday. All smiles, dressed in all pink with a bow that I probably had to special order because lets face it you have your daddy’s head. I’m sure Benjamin is showing you the ropes when it comes to opening your presents because that’s what big brothers are for. You’re all girl and probably take after me when it comes to sticky things so your cake goes untouched. I’m ok with this!  

    As you leave your baby stage I imagine us coordinating our outfits. Probably with a side eye or two from dad. I’m sure he doesn’t really mind because your his little girl. I see you running to give us hugs and your blonde curls are bouncing all around your beautiful face. Benjamin loves to read you books at bedtime and you both fall asleep in mommy’s room. Dad tucks B in and I tuck you in.  

    I see you getting older and being the annoying sister Benjamin needs. You’re still not old enough to NOT be his favorite though. He holds your hand when we leave the house. He helps you into the car and, and of course, walks on the outside to protect you because that is what his daddy has taught him.  

    You’re starting kindergarten, Benjamin wants to be late so he can help take you inside your new school. He doesn’t want you to be scared. He’s so excited to see you afterwards to see how your first day went.  

    You’re his biggest cheerleader at all his sporting events. It prepares you to want to be a cheerleader AND play sports so you can try to out play him. Sometimes he lets you win just so he can see you smile.  

    You guys get into all kinds of trouble, you end up blaming him with a crooked smile, we know better! When Benjamin gets his first girlfriend you’re the one we send in to make sure he is behaving like a gentleman. Of course, you come back with a full report.  

    You’re becoming a teenager and have dad wrapped around your finger. One look or smile and he melts. You use this to your advantage, especially when is comes to shopping. Mommy taught you well! And when you try to leave the house in something he doesn’t approve of you just smile and say “you bought it”. Maybe mom taught you too well.  

    Dad, Benjamin and Aiden are home when you go on your first date. They intimidate the poor boy but his handshake is good. See your dad has set the bar pretty high your whole life so anything less and you know better than to bring him around. Kendall and I help you get ready, I tame your curls and make sure you’re dressed appropriately to protect your already old dad from having a heart attack. Kendall picks a color that makes you blue eyes pop. You’re stunning for your first dance.  

    You start driving. I’m not the best person to teach you because I’m sure your sister will tell you I’m a little crazy. Your sweet 16 is filled with love and friendship. We get you your first car, its probably Walterized. Being a Walters you know what this means. You probably helped Walterize it more. Like father, like daughter.  

    Your graduating high school. I imagine you want to be in the medical field because of your beginning. You were a medical marvel and anomaly which has inspired you to help others in the way those others have helped you. Your dad and I are so proud when you get into medical school. We enjoy your journey throughout the process and gloat to everyone that our daughter is a Doctor.  

    You’ve met the man of your dreams. We love him and think he is a great fit for you and our family. He treats you like a princess and respects you enough to ask your dad for your hand. We are elated when you say yes. I cry when you find your dress and pretty much the whole process of planning your dream wedding. Dad cries for the hit his wallet is taking. *Cue Ella’s side eye* Your dad walks you down the aisle, I see a little tear as he gives you away. At the reception though he makes sure to yell no take-backs, she’s yours! Apparently its time for someone else’s wallet to take the hit! We have a great time seeing everyone celebrate you. Even Kendall, Aiden and Benjamin are dancing the night away! 

    You’ve landed the job of your dreams and can’t wait to tell us all about it. We take you and your new husband for dinner to celebrate. 

    You tell us we’re going to be grandparents. We cry a whole lot and can’t wait to spoil your little bundle of joy. We find out the Walters gene lives on, the poor fella has your head!  

    As much as I wanted this to resemble your life. I will never know. You were too perfect for this place. I now picture you running through fields of wildflowers with the sun shining through your blonde curly hair. Looking back at OB and BB with your gorgeous blue eyes. Your laughter echos through the wind, like a beautiful song I could listen to over and over. Heaven gained a precious angel when you left us. I love you, I miss you more than you’ll ever know.  

    Forever in my heart,  

    Mommy 

    Ella Grace Walters

    April 20, 2022 – April 28, 2022