Once a party girl, teen mother struggles to raise quadruplets

04:42 PM CST on Wednesday, February 1, 2006

By JENNIFER EMILY / The Dallas Morning News

More than a year ago, Amanda Davis went from slacker teen to celebrity mother of four.

Without using fertility drugs - without even meaning to get pregnant - the then-18-year-old delivered two sets of identical twins. It was a 1-in-35 million biological long shot. Well-wishers and talk show hosts showered the family with money, diapers, cribs, even an apartment.

Then stardom faded into reality.

The gifts trailed off, and Amanda was left to care for Abby, Lexi, Ryan and Zach.

Their family life is a portrait without a frame to protect it - no job, no husband, no high school diploma.

She is the daughter of a teenage mother, as was her mother. Now 19 and pregnant again, Amanda expects to deliver her fifth baby Monday with the hope that her children grow up to be "totally the opposite of me."

Amanda's quadruplets made headlines, but her story is not unique. Texas has the highest repeat teen pregnancy rate in the country, according to the Annie E. Casey Foundation. Overall, teen pregnancy is declining throughout the country and Texas, but comparisons show that the problem remains worse here than in other states.

Amanda and her children face a difficult future unless they escape the cycle her family has spun for the last few generations. The high cost of teen pregnancy is not only Amanda's burden but society's as well. Her daughters are more likely to become teenage mothers; her boys risk ending up in jail. They may have trouble in school. Poverty looms.

For more than a year, The Dallas Morning News visited with Amanda and the quads as they struggled against the odds. The challenges will only grow when she gives birth to her fifth child.

Amanda Davis was 17 when she met Jimmy Calabrese. He was 27 and married. They shared cigarettes and a passion for NASCAR. Amanda was at a low point in her life, and he "filled in the empty place. If I wasn't with him, I was thinking about my life and how I messed up." Within two months, she was pregnant. Now Jimmy doesn't visit much or pay child support. Her mother lives in Denver. Her father is in jail. Amanda's salvation is her 61-year-old grandmother, Connie Franklin. Everyone, family or not, calls her Granny.

Amanda and Granny sit on opposite ends of the couch, each holding a baby. Amanda leans forward, rocking Lexi gently but quickly back and forth. Granny lays her head back, closing her eyes and patting Abby.

"I wish someone would give me a bottle and put me to sleep," Granny says to no one in particular. Today, she stole a few minutes to wash her long red hair. She never got a chance to brush it.

Ryan, up most of the night, finally sleeps in his crib. Zach greedily sucks a bottle of formula.

Last night, Amanda and Granny each got two hours of sleep.

Yesterday's dinner of tortillas, beans and rice sits on the kitchen counter, and countless baby bottles fill the sink. Food, spit-up stains and bits of paper litter the living room floor.

"This is what we do all day long. We can't get any housework done," Granny says as she picks up Ryan and Zach, who sob until they're nestled in her lap. "I try to do a little laundry when they go to sleep."

The family lives in the Creek Point Apartment Homes on the east side of McKinney. Up to 12 people have bunked in the three-bedroom apartment, including Amanda, her quadruplets, Granny, her husband, Amanda's brother, her aunt and various cousins.

The family is better off than many who live at the complex – also known as "Crack Point" for its struggle to rid itself of drug dealers. Neighbors knock at all hours asking to borrow the phone. Amanda doesn't like to turn them away, so sometimes she doesn't answer the door.

They were supposed to leave 45 minutes ago. But Ryan wouldn't eat with his brother and sisters. By the time he finishes his bottle, it's time for a round of diaper changes. All four babies are crying. They are 4 months old and don't get out much.

Amanda is shopping for the perfect tongue stud. Granny tells her to let her tongue piercing close, but Amanda clings to this scrap of her teenage self.

Before her pregnancy, Amanda was a party girl. Her grades fell and she dropped out of Princeton High in the 10th grade, trading education for a boyfriend, alcohol and drugs.

"I got into trouble, and I skipped school. And when I went to school, the teachers were so boring, I'd sleep anyway," Amanda says, sitting in her living room. "I wish I could go back to high school, but I know I can't."

Outside Collin Creek Mall in Plano, Amanda loads the babies into a monstrous stroller built for four.

Photos by VERNON BRYANT / DMN

Abby, Ryan, Lexi, and Zach make themselves comfortable as their mother talks on the phone.

First stop, the Disney store. Amanda loves Winnie the Pooh, and her babies have the toys and clothes to prove it. The bulky stroller brushes against the racks of clothing as she navigates the store. She's disappointed that so many things are beyond her budget.

Then she finds Beanie Baby-sized Poohs, Eeyores, Tiggers and Piglets. Buy one, get one free. Twenty dollars later, she has one for each baby.

In a rare moment, the babies are silent. Shoppers flash oversized smiles, unable to hide their fascination. Some call Abby, Lexi, Ryan and Zach "gifts from God." Others utter profanities when they realize there are four.

Unable to find a new tongue stud, Amanda wheels the stroller to an escalator.

Bump. Bump. Bump. The stroller wheels bounce off the rising steps. The babies cry so hard their bodies shake.

"Ma'am, we do have an elevator," a security guard says firmly over the wails.

Amanda nods her head and pushes the stroller to a bench.

"Shhhh. It's OK," Amanda says, kissing them and wiping tears and mucous from their faces.

She thought it would be a fun ride.

Amanda did not use birth control before the quadruplets were born. "I didn't even think about getting pregnant," she said. "I didn't think it would happen to me." Since then, she keeps her birth control pills on the sink by her toothbrush. She takes them at the same time every day. But last spring she didn't renew her prescription on time.

Near the end of March – just before her 19th birthday – Amanda began feeling dizzy and tired.

A doctor at nearby North Central Medical Center told Amanda what she already knew. She was pregnant – again. Jimmy is the father.

Amanda balances Abby while lifting Zach.

Though he virtually ignored Amanda after the babies were born, Amanda considered Jimmy her boyfriend. They met a few times at a motel. She paid for the room.

"I begged her, 'Amanda please don't go over there and sleep with him,' " Granny recalled. "She'd say, 'I won't.' But Granny's not stupid."

Amanda says she went because she could still see a future with Jimmy and their children.

"I actually thought we would be together for a long time. For forever," Amanda said wistfully. "I never thought it would be like this."

Soon after Amanda told Jimmy about the new pregnancy, what was left of their relationship fell apart. They never discussed breaking up. They just stopped talking.

During a checkup, the doctor asks whether Amanda's eating healthy and avoiding fatty and salty foods. She tells him yes. That's only half true. She religiously takes her prenatal vitamins, but sausage and biscuits, chocolate cake and Granny's goulash are frequent meals.

"You just eat when you can, and you eat what's fast," Amanda says later. Sometimes against Granny's advice, she shares Coca-Cola and junk food with the babies. She doesn't do it all the time, but she likes to see them smile at the fizzy drinks. She figures a sip won't hurt.

Amanda says she experimented with marijuana before her first pregnancy. She was offered pot during her second pregnancy, but she says she has no use for drugs. To her, the idea is almost comical. "I'm pregnant," she said laughing as she shook her head. "What am I going to do with it?"

Nearly an hour later, Amanda lies on another exam table for a new sonogram.

The clear gel appears iridescent blue from the light of the monitor as a technician squirts it on her abdomen. She takes a deep breath as he presses the wand hard against her belly, and images flow across the screen.

An arm waves. There's the face. The technician shows her the images of her baby.

"It's a boy," he says.

She had hoped for a girl.

A tear trickles from each eye as she watches the screen.

"I'm not really upset," she says as she leaves the office. "I'm fine with a boy."

Amanda is mad at Jimmy, though.

She expected him to show up for the sonogram. He quit his job driving a tow truck weeks ago and still hasn't found work. She says he should have time for his children now.

"Loser," she mutters. "I'm tired of it."

She decides not to tell him the baby is a boy.

He doesn't ask for a month and a half.

Amanda and the children get a rare visit from the quadruplets' father, Jimmy Calabrese. She says he seldom visits, saying the question of child support depends on his participation in the children's lives.

Before she was a mother, Amanda disappeared for days, heading to wherever her friends and the next party took her. Now, she may go days without leaving the apartment. She is never alone except when she blow-dries and straightens her hair. She finds solace under the whir of the hairdryer. Yet, Abby, Lexi, Ryan and Zach pull at her legs. Most days, she doesn't change out of her pajamas.

For once, all four babies are sleeping. It's 9 p.m., and Amanda strides into the living room, brushing her teeth.

"Just 132 days till the new baby," she announces as though she were counting down to Christmas.

"I don't want to talk about it," Granny replies from the couch.

"One hundred thirty-two days. ..."

"Hush."

Granny has raised babies since age 19. First her own five, though her oldest son died in a car accident as a toddler. Then she brought up or "had a hand in raising" 11 grandchildren.

"I thought I was going to get a break; then the grandchildren started having kids. But there's nothing better in life than being around babies," she says.

Amanda longs for a night out. She asks Granny if she can go see Catwoman.

"You're not leaving me alone with these babies," Granny tells her.

Amanda's mother lives in Denver. Her father is in jail. Her grandmother, Connie Franklin, is helping to raise a third generation.

"They're sleeping," Amanda whines.

"Yes, but they'll wake up. You could go to Wal-Mart."

"Like I want to spend my Friday night walking around Wal-Mart."

Amanda has not been apart from the babies for more than a few hours since they came home from the hospital. She doesn't leave them with baby sitters and often cares for a family friend's little boy. He watches somberly through the window as his mother walks away, not knowing how many days he'll stay with Amanda.

Amanda often romps on the floor with Abby, Lexi, Ryan and Zach, lifting the toddlers in the air and letting them climb over her ever-growing belly.

"I've loved them since I found out I was pregnant. Even when I found out there was four, and I was scared, I loved them," Amanda says, pressing on her abdomen as the unborn baby kicks. "I love them more every day, and I don't love one more than the others."

Abby's cries fill the apartment just before 10 p.m. Amanda pats her on the back as a pacifier helps send her back to sleep.

Instead of going out to see Catwoman, Amanda plays Tetris on the computer, her feet curled up under her. She uses a book of fairy tales as a mouse pad.

At 11:05, she heads to bed.

She'll be up twice with the babies before 3:30 a.m.

Three weeks before the babies' first birthday, Jimmy shocks Amanda and calls one morning, asking if he can come over. He hasn't visited in six months.

Granny said she thinks Jimmy is visiting because he's afraid Amanda will demand child support.

Amanda doesn't talk about Jimmy's marriage. Today, he wears a gold wedding band. Jimmy says he's in the middle of a divorce and fighting for custody of his 6-year-old son. But court records show that the divorce case was dismissed in June after he and his wife didn't appear for hearings.

"She's so naive. ... I would have killed him long ago," Granny says, glancing back toward the bedroom where Amanda and Jimmy are playing with the babies. "I guess I should be quiet; I'm a mean and grouchy old lady."

Jimmy says he wants to help financially but can't find work. He asks Amanda whether the new baby is a boy or a girl. Amanda says she doesn't know.

Jimmy didn't bring Christmas presents for the quads and has never cared for the children alone. He bought diapers once and paid the electricity bill.

When the girls came home from the hospital in October 2003, he came by occasionally on his days off. But after Granny moved in, the visits nearly stopped.

Jimmy said he wasn't able to stop by more often because he had to work.

Amanda would chat with him on the phone while feeding and changing the babies. She held the receiver to their ears so they would know their daddy's voice.

Now months can pass without a call.

Jimmy lost his cellphone when he quit his job. His number doesn't show up on caller ID. Amanda won't ask for his new phone number because she says she shouldn't have to.

"He's the one missing out on what the babies are doing. It's his loss, not mine," she said. "I care a lot about him, and I love him because we have kids together. But without that, there wouldn't be any feelings."

Amanda sits at the head of the bed while their father sprawls at the bottom. The babies crawl over the bed, exploring the window blinds, a pacifier and Jimmy. Eventually, they return to their mother.

"DaDaDaDaDa," Jimmy says, leaning over Ryan and Zach.

"MaMaMaMa," Amanda interjects.

"DaDaDaDaDa," he repeats.

"MaMaMaMa," Amanda says, getting the last word.

As Amanda makes bottles, Jimmy says, "I don't know how she does it by herself all the time."

Ryan cries, reaching for Amanda, who is already bouncing Abby and Lexi on each hip.

"Mommy's got two. Think she needs another?" Jimmy says.

"No, I've got four," Amanda responds sharply.

Jimmy won't visit again until he shows up unexpectedly one morning three months later. He missed the babies' Sept. 12 birthday.

Amanda couldn't have made it through the year without cribs, bassinets, clothes and diapers donated after she appeared on The Sharon Osborne Show. Strangers eased her burden with Wal-Mart gift cards, a stroller for four and toys. For now, the babies' Social Security disability checks of $562 each pay the bills. They could end if social workers decide they are no longer eligible for a program for low-birth-weight babies. After living in the apartment free for three months, Amanda began paying $699 a month in rent. A year's supply of Pampers ends in February.

Next month, Amanda and her babies plan to move to a new apartment in the same complex. Granny; her grandfather, Don; and 18-year-old brother Jason plan to move across the hall from her. Jimmy mentioned moving in, but Amanda hasn't told Granny. She's not sure Jimmy really means it.

Amanda dreams of earning a GED and pursuing a nursing degree, inspired by the time she spent at the hospital when the babies were born. She doesn't know how to accomplish this or how or when she'd have time to study.

For now, she can't look for work. Her old job as a clerk at Michaels craft store would not pay the bills. Amanda says she could not afford day care for all the babies. The money provided by the low-birth-weight program is intended to allow her to stay home to take care of the quadruplets until they are stronger.

When money gets short, they hawk a DVD player or a ring at the pawnshop.

She never asked Jimmy for child support because she thought he'd be around. A court could order him to contribute financially. All Amanda has to do is ask.

"If he decides that he wants to be there and help with them and everything like that, then I'm not going to make him pay child support," she says, pursing her lips. "But if he chooses not to be in their life at all, then I want him to pay child support."

Jimmy's half dozen visits to the apartment during the babies' first year have not inspired much hope. The arrival of the fifth baby, perhaps to be named Matthew, gives Amanda another reason to press Jimmy for help.

So, eventually, she will. Maybe.

Amanda's choices and sketchy plans might baffle some. But in her world, teenage pregnancy and dropping out of high school are not so unusual. An aunt had a baby at 15. A cousin, a senior in high school, will have a baby with his girlfriend before the end of the year.

Amanda Davis hopes her quadruplets grow up to be 'totally the opposite of me.' The odds are against them.

In a rare quiet moment away from her children, Amanda says she hopes her children will take a different path, graduate from high school and maybe even go to college.

"I hope they're totally the opposite of me. I don't want to be 37 like my mom and fixing to have five grandchildren," Amanda said, her voice a mixture of hope and sadness. "I don't want them to get messed up with the wrong people like I did. I just want them to have better than I have."

Amanda says that if she had finished high school, she wouldn't have any children right now. She's considering getting her tubes tied.

"I don't want more kids after this baby. But I said I was done after four, too," she says, chewing her lip. "Later on, after all these are like way older and can help with the baby, then I might want another one. But not right now."

E-mail jemily@dallasnews.com

Abby Full name: Ruby Abbigail Calabrese Personality: Abby is known for piercing screams and growling and is the most vocal of the group. She basks in the applause when she takes a few steps. Age: Oldest and smallest Nicknames: Cinderella, Abbygails, Gabrigella

Lexi Full name: Alexis Rochelle Calabrese Personality: Lexi is a drama queen who cries easily. She's aggressive about snatching what she wants. She takes a few steps but is afraid of falling. Age: Born second Nicknames: Leixtales, Sexy Lexi

Ryan Full name: Vincent Ryan Calabrese Personality: Ryan doesn't like to get dirty, and he's the most content to play alone. He began walking right after his brother. Age: Born third Nicknames: Ryanaree, Baby Ryan

Zach Full name: Raymond Zachary Calabrese Personality: Zach's cheeks are larger than his twin brother's, perhaps from smiling and laughing so much. He was the first to walk. Age: Youngest Nicknames: Smachary, Smach & Cheese, Smach