Control Chaos Daily Grind

Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Girl Who Became a Mom

I was sixteen years old when my world changed.

Most girls my age were worrying about grades, friends, and prom dresses. I was worrying about how I was going to raise a baby when I could barely keep up with school.

The day I found out I was pregnant, I felt a mix of fear, guilt, and a strange kind of calm. I didn’t know what my future would look like, but deep down I already loved that little life growing inside me. I just didn’t know how much strength it would take to get us both through what was coming.

The father, a 23-year-old Marine, wasn’t around. He had his own life, one that didn’t include a sixteen-year-old girl trying to figure out how to be a mom. I tried not to hold onto bitterness, but there were nights when I wondered why I had to do it all alone.

School became harder after that. I’d sit in class trying to focus on algebra, but my mind was racing with thoughts about diapers, doctor appointments, and what people must be whispering about me. Teachers looked at me differently. Friends didn’t know what to say. Some just stopped talking to me altogether. I felt like I was disappearing—like the old version of me didn’t exist anymore.

The only person who really stuck by me was my friend Shelli. She didn’t judge me or try to fix things—she just stayed. Sometimes that’s all you need when life feels like it’s falling apart: one person who doesn’t walk away.

Home wasn’t much easier. My parents weren’t exactly supportive. They didn’t know how to handle it either, and their disappointment hung heavy in the air. Instead of comfort, I got lectures. Instead of help, I got silence. There were days I felt completely alone—trying to be a mother while still being a child who needed her own.

Then came Devin. The moment I held him, everything changed. He was tiny, perfect, and mine. I promised him that no matter what, I’d do my best. But those first few months tested me more than anything ever had.

Something wasn’t right. Devin began throwing up violently after every feeding—projectile vomiting that scared me to death. I knew something was wrong, but every time I told the doctors, they brushed me off. “It’s normal,” they said. “You’re just a young mom worrying too much.” Their words made me feel small, like my age meant I couldn’t possibly know my own baby.

But I did know. I knew in my heart that something wasn’t right. After countless visits and tears, a doctor finally listened. Devin was diagnosed with pyloric stenosis—a condition that required surgery at just three months old. I remember sitting in that hospital, holding his tiny hand, praying for God to keep him safe. I felt helpless but also fiercely protective. No one was going to ignore me again when it came to my child.

A few months later, his father came back into our lives. I was still young, still craving stability, and I wanted more than anything for my son to have both of his parents. When he asked me to marry him, I said yes. I believed love could fix what had been broken.

We packed up and moved to Hawaii, where he was stationed with the Marines. Leaving home was scary, but I told myself it was the best decision for Devin—to be with his father, to give him a family. I dropped out of school, convinced I was doing the right thing. At sixteen, I traded homework and classrooms for diapers, ocean views, and the idea of a new beginning.

Back then, I didn’t realize that love alone couldn’t fix everything—that sometimes doing what feels right for your child also means giving up pieces of yourself. But I was young, hopeful, and determined. I just wanted to believe we could make it work.

Those early years taught me more than any textbook ever could. They taught me what it means to fight, to sacrifice, and to believe in something even when you’re scared. And though I didn’t know it yet, they were the first steps toward the woman—and mother—I would one day become.

April Willis — writer, dyslexia advocate, and mom living a #StrongerThanIKnewLife