By: Bethany Lopez

Physically impossible to rub out, wash out, or alter

~ like a mother’s love or a tattoo

This book is dedicated to all of the single parents out there who are working hard to make a great life for themselves and for their children.

Chapter 1


I’m twenty-two years old, wear a size twelve, and am a single mom – things that don’t make me the most popular girl on campus.

I live in family housing. It’s cheap, has a washer and dryer, and makes it a little easier to juggle going to school full time while raising a two-year-old daughter.

Her name is Karrie, and she’s the smartest, funniest, and sweetest child I’ve ever met. I never imagined I’d be pregnant at nineteen, let alone raising a kid by myself. But I guess life doesn’t always go according to plan.

At least, that’s been my experience so far.

When I went away to school, I was your typical first-time-away-from-home, irresponsible, and crazy party girl. I had a blast my first year. Didn’t go to many classes, and partied way too much. You’d think that was when I got knocked up.


My sophomore year I straightened up. After a series of long lectures from my parents and the arrival of my final grades for my freshman year, I realized I was making a lot of mistakes. I actually started going to my classes. I stopped partying every night and only went out with my friends on the weekends.

Things were going great, until one night I met this hot guy at a frat party and we hooked up.

That was all.

No great love story, no blossoming relationship.

Just a one-night stand.

When I found out I was pregnant, I was scared and devastated.

It had been six weeks since the party that changed my life. I’d been feeling nauseous and extremely tired. It wasn’t until I got lightheaded in the shower that I decided to go to the doctor and see what was wrong.

I wasn’t prepared for the diagnosis.

I felt a myriad of emotions that day: disbelief, anger, sadness, and finally terror.

I worried about what I’d tell my parents, and what it would mean for my future. But first I had to share my terror with the one person that I assumed would feel my pain. I went to the frat house and told my hookup that he was going to be a father.

He laughed and said I was mistaken. He had no intention of being a father to anyone.

I had expected disbelief, and possibly anger, but I’d never expected that. He said no matter my decision, he didn’t want to be a part of the baby’s life. He told me not to even put him on the birth certificate.

I eventually told my parents and they were surprisingly supportive.

“Don’t worry, Sam,” my mother had said as she cradled me in her arms. “Everything happens for a reason. Your father and I are here for you and our grandbaby. You aren’t alone.”

My mom took me to all of my doctor’s appointments and helped me get on the waiting list for family housing. By the time Karrie was born, I had our small home in order and ready for her arrival.

I thought I was ready and knew what to expect.

I was wrong.

The past two years have been the most challenging years of my life. I’ve learned a lot, and am a better mother and person because of it. But I’m tired...and lonely.

The friends I used to hang with are living the single life. I’ve made some new friends here, but we all have kids and they're our top priority.

About once a month my mom takes Karrie for the weekend and I get the opportunity to have some alone time. I usually clean up the house and take advantage of the quiet to do homework, but sometimes I go out.

I learned my lesson though. I haven’t had sex since I found out I was pregnant with Karrie. Not only am I still carrying around some excess baby weight, but the thought of getting pregnant again is terrific birth control.

I’m not saying I never date or anything, because I’ve gone on a few. But I never go past a couple dates with the same guy, and I’ve never introduced any of them to Karrie. No way am I bringing random guys into her life.

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