Authors Note: This story is all loaded on to the web site. All that has to be done is the final readthrough and then my posting the chapter. All the chapters will be replaced and you should probably re-read them again. There will be mistakes on this. My beta reader takes forever. I figure you want to get to the ending more than you want to perfect grammar. I would check out my profile for more information.

Chapter 1

The stick clearly said that I was pregnant, but I didn't want to believe what I was seeing. I had gotten two of those new ones that just told you if you were pregnant or if you weren't so that I wouldn't allow myself to keep checking the directions and the stick to make sure that I was pregnant or just reading that damn test wrong and I had gotten a different brand to make sure that it wasn't just a screw up if the other two tests were wrong. They were all telling me that in nine months I was going to be a mother… well if I did the math right it was only seven and half, but if I thought about how much time I really had left I was going to have a panic attack. I couldn't have that right now.

I couldn't believe that this was happening to me though. I was supposed to be the good sister. The one who never screwed up, and then I turn around and get myself knocked up. I was alone and I was barely out of high school.

I allowed myself the momentary weakness, and I slid to the bathroom floor. I wanted to cry, but I didn't want to alarm my Jess, who was in the next room. She would walk in and know right away what was going on by the pregnancy tests that were all over the counter. I wanted to throw up right about now, but I settled for staring into space. This couldn't be happening to me.

I remember when I had first had the suspicion that something was wrong. It was about two weeks ago when I woke up, and had the worst urge to puke up all of the dinner I had the night before. I was sick all that morning, and I stayed home for the rest of the week. I kept telling myself and the parents that I had the flu. After the first week of continuously getting sick I started to hide the fact that I couldn't keep anything down. I don't know how I did it, but I hid the fact that for twenty minutes every morning I had my head in a toilet.

I knew before I bought the tests this morning that I was going to have a baby, but this made it all the more real though. It was hard toe believe that I was on my own in this, but it was the truth. I had spent all this week feeling out the father of this child, and all he's done is given out bad vibes. I know that he's a good person otherwise I wouldn't have slept with him, but with all that's happened this year I have the strongest feeling that if I tell him about the baby that he's just going to run. Later when he thinks about this he's going to have to feel some guilt about it, but by then the damage will already have been done…. Or at least that's how it's worked in my mind.

It's just better that he doesn't know. Maybe later I'll be able to tell him about his future son or daughter, but for now I'm just going to hide all the damn evidence of my upcoming parenthood and hope that this all goes away…….

Seven and half months later…..

I wanted sleep. I wanted the pain to end. I wanted to die. I wasn't able to do any of those things. I was giving birth. I had been in labor for sixteen hours. If this kid didn't come out of me soon I was going to pull it out myself. It felt like I was being ripped apart. My room felt like something that you looked at, but were never suppose to occupy. But then again delivery rooms were never supposed to be for comfort I guess. I wanted the baby to be born at a birthing center, but my parents had nixed that idea saying that if there were complications that I would be safer in a hospital. I disagreed, but since I had disappointed them so much already I had agreed to do this in a hospital.

I wasn't comfortable with my parents being in the room so I had chosen Jessica, my sister, to be my birthing couch. God help her, because I was going to kill her.

"Come on Liz you can do this," she encouraged grabbing my hand while I pushed through a contraction.

I pushed.

"It's all going to be over soon," she said.

I glared.

"Don't look at me like that. I love you and I'm only trying to help," she defended, giving me a sisterly look.

I grabbed her hand and made sure that I had her attention while I breathed through the pain, "You are a pain in the ass," I growled, "If you want to do something right then shut up. You are not in this bed and you are not pushing a 10 pound watermelon through your virginal area!"

She shut up and I gave birth to a six pound five ounce bouncing baby boy, whom I named David Colin Wakefield.

After if was all over I finally got to meet the one who had been occupying my womb for nine months. It was love at first sight. I told myself then and there that I would do anything for my son to make sure that he never knew any kind of pain. After my parents had come and gone I was left with only myself, my son, and Jessica, who stubbornly refused to go away.

"He looks beautiful Liz," my sister complimented.

She cooed at the baby, "You would say something like that. You are the aunt." I grinned gently touching my baby.

I was so happy that this day was here. I was glowing. The last month has been hard on us all. I had those who were behind my decision not to tell the daddy about the baby and those who has tried to convince me that this one of my last chances to try and get a hold of him before the baby was born. I hadn't thought that was a good idea seven months ago and I didn't think that this was a good idea now. I had stood firm and I had my way.

It was going to be hard on me I knew raising my child alone, but it was better then the alternative at this point. I didn't sleep with an idiot and I didn't make a child by someone who I didn't care about and respect, but that didn't mean that I thought that he was mentally stable enough to handle a baby right now. Those who thought that I was doing something wrong by not telling the father about the baby didn't understand that I wasn't totally cold hearted.

I had tried calling the daddy and getting a feel for him, and as soon as the guy picked up the phone I got the feeling that he was going through a moment of total panic just hearing the sound of my voice. I knew that he wanted to leave his past behind him so I allowed him to make excuses for why he couldn't talk at the moment and I let him go. It was hard because I did feel like I was doing something wrong, but it did feel right too. I had constantly watched him and tried to talk to him, but he just didn't want to do it. At some point this was going to bite me in the ass, but for now, life was perfect.

Jessica did get that look in her eye though. The one that told me that what she thought I was doing was wrong. I nearly growled at her.

"Don't," I warned, "I know you're a romantic at heart, but this is my choice and I am doing the right thing."

"But-"

"Leave Conner McDermott out of this!"