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     By this time Angela was well into her fifth month. At one of her routine visits, the youngest member of her physicians' group used his better discretion and took us back into the ultrasound room to do a "maybe this is necessary" ultrasound. Since Angela was so young, and so petite, he really needed to see the baby's growth, but the main reason for this particular photo session was to let those of us who wanted to know-namely me, what the baby's sex was.
      Shawn and Angela leaned toward wanting to wait until the actual birth date. They both also had strong feelings that the baby was a girl and they had even picked out her name. It would be Mary-Catherine after her two grandmothers.
      I convinced the parents-to-be however, that it would make nursery decorating much easier to know, so they half-heartedly agreed. When the doctor announced that the baby was indeed a girl, Shawn, Angela and I excitedly laughed to the point of tears.
     The doctor told us he was 95 percent sure and explained what he saw as he took pictures for us to add to the family album.
     At this point we knew that there was a healthy baby, it was a girl, and her name would be Mary-Catherine, if Angela and Shawn named her.
     Many times in the last trimester Shawn became frustrated. I heard sharpness in his voice, and decisions concerning finances and funded programs led to disagreements between him and me. Shawn and I had some issues that we had to address. The problems that were arising were met head on until we gained a mutual respect for what each of us was doing. Ultimately, Shawn and I wanted the same thing, a healthy baby with a healthy mother.
     I guess he was feeling left out of the picture. After all, I did come and take charge of the situation. What I wasn't sensitive to was the fact that he wanted to make decisions for what he thought of as his family.
     I saw the situation differently. Angela was my minor daughter, and her father and I were responsible for her well being. Bottom line for us was that Shawn could go with the program or not. We were calling the shots where Angela and her well being were concerned.
     I felt sorry for him since he didn't seem to be getting much direct support from his own family. I even contacted his father to encourage him to talk to Shawn.
      Shawn was trying to work and go to college, and I am sure that he often wished he could be spending some of the doctor's money on movies and pizza. Hard as it was for him, he was acting responsibly in this situation.His responsibility must be recognized because in so many of these cases, the father disappears out of the lives of their children. Shawn was already exceptional according to the statistics on teenage fathers.

                                                                            ~

     At this point in the pregnancy Angela had only briefly mentioned the adoption option to Shawn, but she did not make him aware of the couple she had interviewed. That was probably due to the fact that while Angela did her best to seek out the information, her inner voice was already telling her that she would keep and raise her child. At no time did I ever doubt that Angela would make an excellent mother.
     In between wrapping the Christmas presents, we began to get the nursery together. Angela was now in her seventh month. Still, there was no help from my husband
     The family cradle sat untouched in the trunk of the van for many days after I had transported it from my younger sister's house, until I single-handedly carried it into the house and up the stairs to the nursery. This cradle had been built by my father for my son, the first grandchild. It was huge and both of my children had slept in it for nearly a year.
     I was operating on a very limited budget as I was in school trying to complete my master's degree. Working only fifteen hours a week, and receiving little in the way of extra monetary support from my husband, I had to be clever about making the nursery decorations.
     I had made my son curtains from sheets years ago, which were hanging in the would-be nursery. They were somewhat dark, so I took them down and cut off the bottoms which lightened up the room and used what was cut to form the bumper pad and to back the comforter in the cradle.
     At the local fabric shop, Angela selected a variety of gingham fabrics and for about twenty-five dollars; I quilted the comforter, and appliqu�d the front with multi-colored balloons sporting an A, B, or C on each. I made a balloon wall hanging to match, and found an older patchwork quilt in the same colors in the closet that we draped the bed with. The room was simple, but it was ready for the baby.