Deep down I always knew that telling Jeff I was pregnant would be far easier than telling my parents. As an only child, there have always been unspoken expectations set upon me. Simply stated, it was to be the best at pretty much everything.

Sell the most Girl Scout cookies in your troop, Henley.

Don’t just be on the cheerleading squad, Henley. You have to be captain.

Make the dean’s list, Henley.

Don’t get drunk and have sex in a public place and get knocked up out of wedlock, Henley.

Okay, maybe that last one wasn’t something they actually said, but I’m pretty sure it probably crossed their minds at some point. So when it actually came time to officially announce that I was more scandalous than the canoodling whore of Babylon and that I was, in fact, harboring a bastard child within my loins, I braced myself for the worst.

Jeff’s parents took it surprisingly well. Mostly, I think they were relieved that they were simply getting a grandchild. They didn’t care which son gave it to them.

Jeff wanted to break the news to them in some silly Hallmark-esque fanfare, with a cute puzzle they had to solve or with a matching set of “Grandparents in Training” tea cups or something equally absurd. I was so anxious about the entire situation I accidentally blurted it out in the middle of a FaceTime call.

Jeff’s mom, Martha, wanted his opinion of a few potential wall colors for the downstairs bathroom. Why? I don't know, considering he has the home decorating sense of a drunk clown. But Martha had just finished showing us a dozen swaths of grey paint above the toilet when I blurted out, “I’m pregnant!”. Jeff beamed, and I had that pained, toothy, uncomfortable grin on my face. The kind of smile you get when you ask a toddler to say “Cheese!” for the camera and everything gets awkward.

We both watched his mother in stunned silence as the world hesitated for one breathless moment.

No, literally.

Everything stopped.

Technology failed, and the screen froze, distorting Martha into a kaleidoscope of pixels across the screen as a “Bad Connection” error message flashed. We could hear her flailing about, shouting for her husband to come join her in the bathroom on the call, but we couldn’t actually see her reaction. I could only hope that the tears we heard were tears of joy.

When the screen finally came back into focus, Jeff’s parents were gleefully jumping up and down and immediately began discussing the whereabouts of my boyfriend’s childhood toy collection.

My folks, on the other hand, didn’t take the news as well—or at all.

I learned early on that bringing guys home to meet my folks was a bad idea. No man would ever be good enough for me, at least according to my parents, so they tended to alienate anyone with a penis who passed through their threshold next to me. I think they accepted Leo as well as they did because his mere existence was confirmation that I didn't play for the other team.

“I don’t understand why you’re so worked up about telling them, Henley. This is really exciting news. Any parent should be thrilled to learn their child is expecting. Mine were overjoyed beyond measure.”

“Yeah. But you haven’t met my parents.” And this is hardly the ideal circumstance to meet them.

Jeff sighs, dread slowly filling his eyes. “So what’s the likelihood of them believing you’re a modern day Virgin Mary? It worked once. Maybe it could work again?” Jeff massages my shoulder, trying to chase the building tension away.

“Well, they’re Catholic, but that’s about the only thing that’s working in our favor.”

“Aren’t Catholics supposed to be all super forgiving and what not?”

“My parents have perfected guilt and judgment to an art form.”

I spent the entire first trimester thinking through the scenario:

Mom, Dad, this is my boyfriend, Jeff. And this is his unborn child I’m carrying.

“Would you like to see my gun collection?”

Mom, Dad, I know you haven’t met Jeff, yet. But we’ve decided to combine DNA and breed new life into the world!

“Son, can I show you my Purple Heart?”

Hey, guys! I slipped and fell on Jeff’s dick, and his man seeds ended up inside my flower, and now I’m carrying his spawn.

“Let me tell you something … Whatever you have done to my little girl, I will personally do to you.”

For weeks I played the prospective conversation over and over in my head, all with the same inevitable outcome: death and possible dismemberment of Jeff’s member.

But what happened was worse.

Much, much worse.

Against my better judgment, Jeff came with me. I know we’re inseparable these days, but I had insisted that I do this alone. Give them a chance to get comfortable with the idea that their little daughter dearest was with child. But my boyfriend extraordinaire insisted that this was a we thing. We got ourselves into this situation, and we will take it on together.

As he always tells me, “Where you walk, I walk.”

And so together we would walk into the depths of hell and hopefully emerge out the other side together and in one piece.

It was a Sunday afternoon. We had met my parents for brunch after they attended the ten o’clock service at Good Shepherd Church. My mother had worn a long flowery dress and ivory shawl while my dad picked his usual suit and tie. Nothing less than their best for an ordinary Sunday. But little did they know they were dressing for their funeral because I was sure this news was going to knock them over dead.

The conversation over brunch went well. My parents used the opportunity to ask Jeff questions and learn about his upbringing, make sure he was well educated (or well enough educated for their only daughter), and dance around his career to confirm his financial stability. In short, they wanted to make sure this gentleman caller was an acceptable suitor. It took all the energy I could muster to bite my tongue instead of cueing a southern drawl and proclaiming, “Well, I do declare he’d make a fine husband for me, one day!”

By the time we returned to my parents’ house, the nerves had taken over. I continually wiped my palms against my thighs and found myself concentrating on my breathing like I did when I went to yoga classes every Tuesday night before I traded up to participate in Taco Tuesday adventures instead.

I took a large sip of water, and with a shaky hand set the glass down on the table. As Jeff squeezed my leg, my dad cleared his throat and shot him a cutting glare as if to say, “Get your hands off my daughter before I knock your ass back to fifth grade.”

“Mom … Dad … I have something I want to tell you.”

Jeff made some weird sniffling sound that rivaled my dad’s throat clearing as he put his arm around my shoulders, drawing me near.

“I mean, we, have something to tell you.”

My dad leaned over, resting his elbows on his knees as my mom smiled brightly at us, her gaze traveling to my left hand in anticipation of a proposal announcement.

“What is it, dear?” Her voice was light and full of hope.

Most parents would be ecstatic about their grown ass daughter having a baby. But my parents weren’t most parents. And I knew that this was going to smash that hopeful voice into a million tiny pieces.

I paused, momentarily paralyzed.

“Well …?” she begged.

I watched her eyes drift to my naked left ring finger and then looked to Jeff. He proffers a timid but encouraging smile.

“We … um …Jeff and I … are … um … ” I stumbled over every damn syllable. I knew that no matter how I scripted this in my head it would inevitably be a disaster.

“Mr. and Mrs. Carson, what Henley is trying to say is—”

“I’m pregnant!” I exclaimed.

I knew Jeff was only trying to help the situation, but if I don’t own up to this in front of my parents, I would never live it down. I was a grown woman who made grown up decisions and was facing the grown up consequences of telling her parents. Even still, I couldn’t help but feel like a teenage girl confessing to wrecking the car on the way home from a party I never should have been at in the first place.

My parents looked at me, then at Jeff and then each other in a terrifying silence. Then as if on cue, they both doubled over in laughter at the same time, slapping their knees, hemming and hawing over how hilarious our little prank was.

I swallowed hard as Jeff and I stared at each other awkwardly.

“That’s a good one, Hen!” My dad wiped tears away from his eyes as he continued to howl in hysterics. “Our little girl … pregnant!” He barely spit the words out as he gasped for air between full blown belly laughs.

My heart fell to my stomach, and I tried to steady my breath.

“I … um … this isn’t a joke.” I looked at my hands in my lap. “I’m eleven weeks, today.”

And for an awkward ten seconds, that terrifying silence returned, only to be broken by the wailing sobs of my mother as she ran from the room, my father quick on her heels, presumably to console her.

“Wow,” Jeff breathed. “I wasn’t quite expecting … that.”

There’s no better word than that.

That was unexpected.

That was the precise moment I tore my mother’s heart in two.

That was possibly the best situation I could have hoped for knowing those two.

“They’re a bit … traditional. They’ll come around … I promise.”

I hoped.

I place my hand on his knee and run my thumb back and forth, but it does nothing to soothe either of us.

Later that evening my father called and asked to speak with Jeff. I cautiously handed him the phone and lingered close by, just in case.

To my surprise, I wasn’t able to hear my dad screaming at Jeff through the line. And thankfully, my dad didn't show up unannounced with a hit man in tow. They both spoke in hushed tones, and I could only hear Jeff’s side of the conversation which was made up of direct phrases like “Yes, sir,” and “No, it’s not like that,” and “I promise”. I could only imagine the menacing threats he was continuing to make against my boyfriend.

When Jeff hung up the phone, my heart crumbled. “They didn’t want to talk to me?” I asked softly.

“No, it’s not that they didn’t want to talk to you. They had some questions for me.”

“How bad?” I deadpanned, my face expressionless but my mind moving fast enough to break a speedometer on a formula one race car.

He squeezes the back of his neck with his hand, presumably weighing the options of truth and fabrication.

“Don’t you dare lie to me. Like you said, we’re in this together.” I stared at him, silently willing him to tell me about the conversation.

Jeff approached me and took my hands in his. “Your mom and dad love you, and all they wanted to do was make sure that I love you, too. And that I’m serious about a future with both you and our baby, which I am.” He leaned over and kissed my forehead.

“That’s all?” I wasn’t convinced.

Jeff sighed. “Let’s put it this way. What would happen if the roles were reversed and that was our child telling us they were expecting out of wedlock to someone they’d been dating for less than a year?” He looked at me poignantly.

Okay. I got it.

“You can’t fault them for wanting to talk to me a little more. Your dad even invited me fishing in a few weeks. He wants to get to know me better.”

“No, he wants to throw you off a boat for taking his daughter’s virginity away. It’s all under the guise of a getting to know you fishing trip.”

“Babe, you weren’t a virgin when we met.” He released my hand and touched my cheek softly.

“Yeah, but he doesn’t know that. I guarantee that he wholeheartedly believes that I’ve only had sex one time, and once was enough to get knocked up.”

He caressed my cheek in his palm, and gently rubbed his thumb against my jawline. “They may be traditional, but they're not stupid, babe. But if your dad has ulterior motives, let’s get an extra life insurance policy on me before I hit the lake with him. My parting gift to you, aside from my undying love from beyond the grave, would be a nice little sum of dough.”

I snorted, and he pressed his lips against mine in the tenderest of kisses. When he pulled back, he smirked, and there was a boyish twinkle in his eye. “But even in death, you can’t get rid of me. I love you so much that I’d come back to haunt your sweet ass just so you’d know you’re still top of mind in the afterlife.”

I playfully swatted at his shoulder. “If that’s not love, then I don’t know what is.”