My Mother Kicked Me Out of the Church for Getting Pregnant Out of Wedlock

The day I revealed my pregnancy in church started with morning sickness and ended with my mother disowning me. But what happened next made my mother change her decision.

I’m a sophomore in college studying psychology, and that’s where I met Glenn last fall. We started out as study buddies in our Intro to Research Methods class, but there was something special about him from day one.

He had this gentle way of explaining complex topics that made everything click, and his smile? It could light up the whole lecture hall.

A boy smiling | Source: Midjourney

A boy smiling | Source: Midjourney

“Faith, you’re starin’ again,” he’d tease me during our study sessions, and I’d feel my cheeks burn red every single time.

“Can’t help it if you’re distracting,” I’d shoot back, and we’d both laugh like we had the best secret in the world.

We went from sharing coffee after class to spending hours at the campus diner. We’d pick at endless plates of waffle fries while sharing our life stories.

A girl sitting in a cafeteria | Source: Midjourney

A girl sitting in a cafeteria | Source: Midjourney

Glenn told me a bit about his family and how he enjoyed playing in the fields as a kid. Meanwhile, I opened up about losing my dad when I was five. That’s when things started shifting from friendship to something more.

“Your dad would be so proud of you,” Glenn said one evening, reaching across the table to squeeze my hand. “Following your dreams, helping people through psychology…”

A boy talking to his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney

A boy talking to his girlfriend | Source: Midjourney

The first time he kissed me on the porch swing outside my mama’s house, I swear I saw stars. But when I told Mama about Glenn, she just pressed her lips together and said, “That’s nice, sugar. Don’t forget you’ve got that big exam coming up.”

That’s my mama, Claudia, for you. Since Daddy passed, she’s thrown herself into two things: raising me and adoring nature.

Never dated, and never seemed interested in finding love again.

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

A woman smiling | Source: Midjourney

Sometimes I catch her looking at Daddy’s photo on the mantle with such longing that it breaks my heart. I wish she’d give herself permission to be happy again, but we don’t have the kind of relationship where I can say that.

“Mama,” I tried once, “don’t you ever get lonely?”

“I’ve got you,” she replied, smoothing down her skirt. “That’s all the company I need.”

Everything was sailing smoothly until that morning I woke up feeling too sick.

Sunlight passing through curtains | Source: Pexels

Sunlight passing through curtains | Source: Pexels

I swear I couldn’t even move, and the thought of having breakfast nearly made me puke.

Oh no… I thought. The nausea, the fatigue… Does it mean I’m pregnant?

That was the first thing that came to my mind because Glenn and I got intimate a few weeks earlier.

I was super scared, and my hands were trembling so bad I could barely open the drawer where I’d hidden the pregnancy tests.

“Please, please, please,” I whispered, watching that little window. “Please tell me I’m wrong!”

But two pink lines appeared clear as day, and my world tilted sideways.

A girl holding a pregnancy test | Source: Pexels

A girl holding a pregnancy test | Source: Pexels

I sank down onto my bathroom floor while my heart pounded inside my chest.

“This can’t be happening,” I muttered, staring at the test. “I’m only nineteen. I can’t have a baby. I can’t…”

A few minutes later, I found myself pacing the bedroom.

“How am I gonna hide this from Mama?” I asked myself. “She’ll never understand. A baby? Out of wedlock? In our family?”

I think I talked to myself for almost an hour while different scenarios played out in my mind. All of them resulted in my mother not speaking to me.

I was certain she’d never accept my baby.

A girl standing in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

A girl standing in her bedroom | Source: Midjourney

I spent the next few days hiding in my room, coming up with every excuse I could think of to avoid facing Mama.

“Faith, honey! Dinner’s ready!” she called out one evening.

“Sorry, Mama, got this huge psychology paper due tomorrow,” I shouted back. “I’ll grab something later!”

The next morning, she knocked on my door. “Baby girl, I made your favorite pancakes.”

“Thanks, but I already ate a granola bar. Got an early study group meeting,” I lied, feeling guilty about the growing pile of excuses.

A girl talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

A girl talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

That evening, she tried again. “Faith? Mrs. Jones brought over her famous casserole…”

“Got finals coming up, Mama. Need to focus!” I called out.

By Thursday, Mama wasn’t having it anymore. She marched right up to my room and stood in the doorway.

“Now hold on just a minute,” she said, fixing me with that mom-stare that could melt steel. “Since when do you skip my pancake breakfasts? And don’t think I haven’t noticed you running to the bathroom every morning.”

A woman looking at her daughter | Source: Midjourney

A woman looking at her daughter | Source: Midjourney

“Just stressed about exams,” I mumbled, avoiding her gaze.

“Uh-huh,” she said, clearly unconvinced. “And I suppose stress is also why you haven’t touched your coffee in days? The same coffee you swear you can’t live without?”

“My study group suggested cutting back on caffeine.”

“My dear Faith,” Mama said slowly, “in all your years of schooling, I’ve never seen you skip meals during finals. Something’s going on with you, and we both know it ain’t just studying.”

But before she could press further, I grabbed my backpack. “Sorry, Mama, I’m late for the library. Group project!”

A girl looking at her mother | Source: Midjourney

A girl looking at her mother | Source: Midjourney

I practically ran down the stairs, leaving her standing there with that worried look I’d been trying so hard to avoid.

The following Sunday, Mama called up to my room, “Faith, honey! We’re gonna be late for service!”

“Coming!” I called back, fighting another wave of nausea. “Maybe I should skip today…”

“Skip church? Are you feeling poorly?” Mama appeared in my doorway.

“Just a little tired,” I lied, forcing a smile. “Been studying real hard.”

A girl looking away while talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

A girl looking away while talking to her mother | Source: Midjourney

“You’ve been ‘tired’ all week,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Something you want to tell me?”

“No ma’am,” I said quickly. Too quickly. “I’ll be ready in five minutes.”

The church was packed that morning, all our neighbors dressed in their Sunday best.

Mrs. Jones was wearing her famous pink hat, and Mr. Rodriguez had his grandkids with him. Everything was fine until halfway through the sermon when that familiar nausea hit me.

I must’ve turned green because Mama grabbed my hand.

A woman sitting in a church | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a church | Source: Midjourney

“Baby girl, what’s wrong?” she whispered, her eyes narrowing. “Come to think of it, you’ve been actin’ strange all week…”

Maybe it was the guilt, or maybe it was just those pregnancy hormones, but I couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Mom, I have something to tell you,” I whispered back, tears welling up. “I’m pregnant.”

The silence that followed felt eternal. Mama’s face went through about fifty different emotions in three seconds flat.

“What?” she gasped, loud enough for several heads to turn. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

A woman sitting in a church, looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A woman sitting in a church, looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“No, I’m not joking,” I managed, my voice trembling. “I’m pregnant, and it’s Glenn’s.”

That’s when Mama lost it. She stood up and started yelling at me.

“Get out of the church right now!” she hissed. “Go home, pack your things, and don’t come back to my house! How could you do this? Did you even think about what our family and friends would say? Do you not know the traditions and values we hold!? Get out of my sight!”

A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney

A woman talking to her daughter | Source: Midjourney

I quickly stood up and began walking away while my tears blurred my vision. I could see how Mrs. Jones was staring at me with wide eyes.

But before I could reach the door, a familiar voice called out.

“Stop right there, young lady.”

It was Pastor James, and he was looking at my mother with the kind of stern expression I’d seen him use during particularly passionate sermons.

A priest looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A priest looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

“Claudia,” he said gently, walking down the aisle toward us, “would you abandon your daughter when she needs you the most? Isn’t this the time to show love and forgiveness?”

“But she’s having a child out of wedlock!” Mama protested. “I never—”

“That shouldn’t be an issue, Claudia,” Pastor James interrupted softly. “Sometimes the greatest blessings come in unexpected packages. Remember, Claudia, when your husband passed away, this congregation wrapped their arms around you and Faith. Shouldn’t we do the same now?”

A priest talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

A priest talking to a woman | Source: Midjourney

Those words changed Mama’s thoughts. She looked at me and then burst into tears.

The next thing I knew, we were hugging right there in the middle of the church, both of us crying while the congregation pretended not to watch.

“I’m so sorry, baby girl,” she whispered into my hair. “I was just scared for you. I know how hard it is raising a child alone…”

“I’m not alone, Mama,” I said. “I have Glenn, and I have you… if you’ll still have me?”

But the story doesn’t end here.

A girl smiling | Source: Midjourney

A girl smiling | Source: Midjourney

A few days later, Mama insisted on meeting Glenn and his family.

“Time to do this properly,” she said, straightening my collar like I was still a little girl. “No more secrets.”

Glenn drove us to his place.

“You nervous?” I asked Glenn as we pulled up to his house.

“A little,” he admitted, squeezing my hand. “But it’s time our families met.”

You won’t believe what happened next. We pulled up to this beautiful house, and who opened the door? Pastor James.

The look on his face when Glenn called him “Dad” was priceless.

A man looking at his son | Source: Midjourney

A man looking at his son | Source: Midjourney

“Faith?” Pastor James said, looking between me and his son. “Glenn, son, is this your young lady?”

“Yes sir,” Glenn said, taking my hand. “Surprised?”

“Well, I’ll be…” Pastor James shook his head, then started laughing. “The Lord sure does work in mysterious ways.”

Looking back now, I can’t help but laugh at how everything unfolded. Sometimes the best blessings come wrapped in the scariest packages, and sometimes the people you think you barely know turn out to be your biggest supporters.

A girl looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

A girl looking straight ahead | Source: Midjourney

And Mama? Well, she’s already picking out baby names and knitting tiny booties.

And just yesterday, she said, “You know, sugar, maybe it’s time I started getting out more. Mrs. Jones’ brother just moved to town…”

Let’s see what happens next.

A woman standing near a window | Source: Pexels

A woman standing near a window | Source: Pexels

If you enjoyed reading this story, here’s another one you might like: Emma’s world was upended when her father abruptly called her home from university, only to demand she vacate her room for her reckless stepbrother. Months later, another urgent call revealed their family home in ruins, igniting a journey of redemption and rebuilding for them all.

This work is inspired by real events and people, but it has been fictionalized for creative purposes. Names, characters, and details have been changed to protect privacy and enhance the narrative. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

The author and publisher make no claims to the accuracy of events or the portrayal of characters and are not liable for any misinterpretation. This story is provided “as is,” and any opinions expressed are those of the characters and do not reflect the views of the author or publisher.

My neighbors reached out to complain about my in-laws’ behavior – so I gave them permission to put them in their place

“Me neither,” I replied, squeezing his hand. “It’s going to be amazing.”

We had called his parents, Miriam and Richard, over to share the news.

When they arrived, I could see the curiosity in their eyes.

“What’s this big news you have for us?” Miriam asked, settling into her favorite chair.

David took a deep breath. “I got the project. We’re moving to California for a month.”

Miriam’s face lit up. “That’s wonderful, David! But what about the house? You can’t just leave it empty.”

Richard nodded. “She’s right. Houses need looking after.”

I glanced at David, who gave me a reassuring smile. “We were hoping you could help with that,” he said.

Miriam’s eyes sparkled with excitement. “Oh, we’d love to! Right, Richard?”

“Absolutely,” Richard agreed.

“Thank you so much,” I said. “That would be very helpful.”

David seemed relieved. “Great, it’s settled then.”

But as we started to pack up our things, I couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

Miriam and Richard had a habit of overstepping boundaries, and I worried about what they might do while we were away.

The next morning, David and I loaded the last of our bags into the car. Miriam and Richard stood by, ready to take over.

“Don’t worry about a thing,” Miriam said. “We’ve got it all under control.”

I forced another smile. “Thanks, Miriam. We really appreciate it.”

David hugged his parents goodbye. “Take care of yourselves and the house,” he said.

Richard gave me a firm handshake. “You two enjoy your adventure. We’ll keep everything in order here.”

As we drove away, I couldn’t help but feel a knot in my stomach. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” I asked David.

“It’ll be fine, Michelle,” he said, glancing at me. “They mean well.”

I nodded, trying to convince myself. “I know. It’s just…”

“I understand,” he said, squeezing my hand. “But this is a great opportunity for us. And we’re going to enjoy our time in California, okay?”

I took a deep breath and pushed my worries aside. “You’re right. Let’s focus on the adventure ahead.”

But despite my efforts to focus on our new adventure, the unease from leaving our house in Miriam and Richard’s hands lingered.

A week into our stay in California, I received a call from Alice, our close neighbor.

“Hey, Michelle,” Alice started, her voice hesitant. “I need to tell you something about your in-laws.”

My heart sank. “What did they do, Alice?”

She took a deep breath. “Miriam threw away your purple curtains.”

“What?” I felt a surge of anger. “Those were my favorite!”

“There’s more,” Alice continued. “She also scolded me for wearing a top and shorts in my own backyard.”

I clenched my fist. “That’s so intrusive. She has no right!”

“And,” Alice hesitated again, “I saw her throwing away some of your clothes.”

Chills ran down my spine. “What? She did what?”

“I’m so sorry, Michelle. Tom and I want to help. We can talk to Miriam and Richard and put them in their place.”

I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart. “Thank you, Alice. I appreciate it. Please, do what you can. They need to understand boundaries.”

“What’s wrong?” David asked as he entered the room.

“Miriam threw away my curtains and some of my clothes. She even scolded Alice for her outfit in her own yard.”

“What? Mom did that? This is too much. We need to call them.”

“Let’s wait,” I said. “Alice and Tom are going to talk to them first.”

“Alright, but if this doesn’t stop, we’re calling them ourselves.”

“They need to learn that they can’t just do whatever they want,” I said, nodding.

As I ended the call with Alice, I felt a sense of resolve. Miriam and Richard were going to learn the hard way that their behavior was unacceptable.

I anxiously waited for Alice’s call to update me on their talk with Miriam and Richard. When my phone finally rang, I answered immediately.

“Michelle, it’s Alice. We talked to them, but Miriam just brushed it off. We need to take this further.”

I took a deep breath. “Alright, what’s the plan?”

“We’ll gather the neighbors,” Alice said. “Let’s have a video call to discuss it.”

An hour later, I sat at my laptop, connecting to a video call with Alice, Tom, Brian, Ellen, and Honor. Everyone looked serious and ready to help.

“Thanks for joining,” I began. “Miriam’s crossed the line. We need to show her boundaries.”

Brian nodded. “What can we do?”

Alice leaned in. “Miriam’s planning a barbecue this weekend. I say we crash it.”

Tom grinned. “Sounds good. How?”

“Everyone wears Hawaiian shorts,” Alice suggested, her eyes twinkling. “And we bring tuna pies — Miriam hates them.”

Ellen laughed. “That’ll definitely make a statement.”

“Make it fun and loud,” I added, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. “Show them what real boundaries are.”

Honor nodded. “Count me in.”

We spent the next hour planning every detail. Everyone had a role, from baking the pies to finding the brightest Hawaiian shorts!

Before we ended the call, Brian clapped his hands together. “This is going to be epic.”

“Remember,” I said, trying to sound confident, “the goal is to reclaim my home, not start a war.”

Alice smiled. “We’ve got this, Michelle. They won’t know what hit them.”

Just when I hung up, David returned from grocery shopping. “We have a plan,” I explained, detailing everything.

He listened quietly and sighed. “I feel bad it’s come to this. They’re my parents, after all.”

“I know,” I said gently. “But they need to learn they can’t do whatever they want.”

He nodded slowly. “You’re right. I just wish it didn’t have to be this way.”

“I understand,” I replied. “But it’s the only way to reclaim our home.”

David managed a small smile. “Alright. Let’s see how it goes.”

That weekend, I traveled back home, determined to handle the situation in person.

Soon, the day of the barbecue arrived, and Miriam’s loud invitations gave Alice the perfect opportunity to overhear. I waited anxiously nearby, ready for the call.

Soon enough, my phone rang. “Michelle, they’re here,” Honor said. “It’s time.”

“On my way,” I replied, taking a deep breath and heading to our backyard.

As I approached, I saw the neighbors in their bright Hawaiian shorts, carrying tuna pies and ready to party. Miriam and Richard stood there, shocked and outraged.

“What is this? You can’t be here!” Miriam snapped at them.

Alice stepped forward, unfazed. “We’re here to enjoy the barbecue, Miriam.”

Miriam’s face turned red. “I’m calling the police! You can’t just crash my party like that.”

Honor quickly called me. “Michelle, it’s time.”

I entered the backyard, feeling a surge of determination. “Miriam,” I began, “you’ve crossed the line. So I think I should be the one calling the cops.”

Miriam glared at me. “How dare you speak to me like this in front of everyone! This is unacceptable! Did you plan all of this?”

“Unacceptable,” I said firmly, “is you changing the curtains, making inappropriate remarks to my neighbors, and throwing away my clothes! My neighbors will stay at this party, and you will serve them barbecue. Then, you’ll pay me for the things you threw away. Otherwise, I’ll call the police for damaging my property at MY home.”

Miriam’s facade crumbled as she stood speechless, her face red with anger and disbelief.

“You can’t do this,” she sputtered.

“You have a choice,” I said, holding my ground. “Comply or face the consequences.”

The neighbors watched, some smiling, others nodding in agreement. Richard, realizing the gravity of the situation, gently tugged her arm.

“We should just do what she says,” Richard said quietly. “Let’s not make this worse.”

Miriam looked around, seeing the determination on my face and the support from the neighbors. She finally nodded, defeated. “Fine,” she muttered.

With no choice, Miriam served the barbecue with a forced smile while the neighbors enjoyed the party. The atmosphere was lively and joyous, with music playing and everyone having a good time.

I was glad that I had reclaimed my home and set the boundaries clear. It wasn’t just about the curtains or the clothes — it was about respect and understanding. And we had made that crystal clear.

Do you think we did the right thing?

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