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The Teen Parenting and Pregnancy Place
TeenOutReach
Jaicee's Just For Teen Moms Webpage
Shelter Against the Storm
Teen Mothers Unite!
StandUpGirl  
One Young Parent

More Personal Stories:
Salome's Place
Jen & Baby
Caraannie's Page
It Happens To Good Girls, Too  
About Teen Pregnancy
Teens in Trouble: Teen Pregnancies

My Story

It was in October that I found out. My birthday is in September and I had just turned 15 a couple weeks prior. My then boyfriend got a pregnancy test. 

I remember the way the bathroom looked with it's cheery blue and white tiles. We had only lived there about a year. I remember waiting for the results. I watched the test windows anxiously. When that little line showed up, my heart jumped to my throat. Frantically I reached for the directions and read over and over what a positive test looked like. My then boyfriend was waiting out in the hall to find out. I knew that I had to leave the sanctuary that the bathroom had become and venture out to tell him what on some level he seemed to already know. I was pregnant.

I felt a grin spread across my face. I wasn't happy. I wasn't excited. I was terrified! But there was this smile plastered on to my face and I couldn't get it off even though I felt like I was dying inside. I opened the door with that ridiculous grin and managed to choke out the results. I don't remember the look on his face. If I was to guess, he probably looked blank.

I asked him to go for a walk. We went downstairs and I nonchalantly told my mother that I was going for a walk. Or at least I thought I was nonchalant. We walked around the neighborhood and talked about our options. Really, I talked. He walked with me. 

I knew about abortion. As scared as I was, I knew that I had a new life inside of me and I couldn't get an abortion. I thought about adoption. But then I wondered if there was anyone else who could understand my baby the way I could. I was terrified of telling my mother. She had long since told me that if I was to get pregnant out of marriage she would force me to give the baby up for adoption. I wondered if she could really do that. I thought I loved this guy and I thought he loved me. We were on the verge of breaking up before but now, faced with this, I somehow thought that maybe the two of us could make this work. Maybe we could form a family. So I asked him. Did he want to marry me? He was quiet for a moment and then said yes. Yes he would marry me. We were scared to talk to our parents so I suggested that we call my youth pastor.

He met us and picked us up. We told him we were pregnant and wanted to get married.

He laughed.

Our parents both confronted us that night separately and we both told them what had happened. My mother told us that if we were sure than fine, we could get married. His mother was going through chemo for breast cancer and thought we should wait until the baby was born and then consider getting married. I thought that with the way our relationship was, we needed to get married right away if we were going to make it. I don't know what he really thought. 

We found a county in Ohio where we could go through with it with parental permission if a judge would agree to it. We saw the judge individually and answered her questions and then she spoke with our parents. Everyone apparently agreed and permission was given.

I know I cried a lot. My friends couldn't believe what had happened. I couldn't believe it. I was scared and alone and I constantly thought about the baby. Mostly I thought that there was this baby inside of me and it was going to have to come out and that was going to hurt. A lot. 

The rest of the time is pretty much a blur. I remember a vivid scene here and there but mostly just an overwhelming sense of heartache and fear. My mother was always alternating between supportive and destructive. My step-dad didn't say much. I was alone and enshrouded in a misery I couldn't see my way out of. My only hope was pinned on this idea of getting married and starting a family and doing things the right way and somehow turning this around.

So despite misgivings all around, a month and a half later we were married in a small church in Defiance County Ohio. 

I decided very soon to find out all that I could about pregnancy and childbirth. I went to the local public library and looked at all of their books on pregnancy and birth. I was married and the librarian was going to give me a juvenile card until I proved I was married. There really aren't many helpful books on childbirth in the kiddie section. 

I remember one time in particular standing there in the aisle, very pregnant and very young, having found a book on labor and birth that promised full color photographs. 

Full color photographs? Could I stand to look? With my heart in my throat, I decided to open the book to see if I could face what was coming. I remember slowly opening the book to a promising spot in the middle and seeing - absolutely nothing. 

Then I slowly opened one eye. 

Then I moved my fingers just slightly so I could peek through them. 

Oh man. That looked painful.

There are lots of little stories that happened during those times. Like the nurse who tried to talk me into an epidural. I said no. She said I was too young and little and I should have one. I said no again. She said I didn't understand what they were. On the contrary, I told her what it was and outlined how the procedure is done and again said that I didn't want one. (I don't like needles!) She said okay. Later on, in the forms I had to sign, there appeared a consent form for an epidural sandwiched in-between everything else. I had to wonder, does being pregnant at 15 automatically mean you're illiterate as well?

I watched girls my own age run around and do what they wanted. Ponder college. Worry about prom. Flirt with boys. Grow at their own, un-accelerated pace. And I felt jealousy at times. I felt resentment at times. I wanted to scream "Don't you know what you have? You have the world! And you won't know it until you've throw it away." I wanted to pound it into their heads. I still do. Make better choices. Don't live for the moment - live for life! Live for real joy. Live for true love. Don't be so wrapped up in being cool that you forget to live at all. It was a revelation to really learn that I, too, could still do those things in my own way inside of the life that I now have. But the fact remains that there are things I will never be and never do because of my premature role as a mother. That took years to come to peace with.

I went through times of being called a hick, slut, whore, etc. by strangers. My least favorite question and one that I still hear all the time to this day is, "Now how old are you?". 

Sometimes I just smile and change the subject. I've come to the conclusion that If someone wants to make a big deal out of it, that's their problem. I know I'm an excellent mother and an intelligent person. My friends know that. My family knows that. God knows that. My sons know that. Really, who else matters?

I'm now 20 years old. I have a long way to go but I have also come a long way. Every day is another step forward for me and that's all that matters. My oldest is an amazingly well adjusted, bubbly, creative 4 year old despite my previous marriage and divorce. My youngest is just 4 months old, and while I'm bragging, just sat up on his own today. : ) I have a good job, my husband is a student, we are self-sufficient and no I am not on welfare. I took a semester of college and then I got my GED. (Why not do that backwards, too?) I don't know what else I'll do with my life. I only know that I'm living it everyday and now I wouldn't trade it for anyone else's. 

But I believe the story really begins way before that day in October when I knew I was pregnant. 

What brought me to that time sitting miserable and alone, only 15, and carrying a child? I have asked myself why countless times. I knew not to have sex. I knew about condoms and where to get them and all the rest. I believed in a right and a wrong and in God whose rules, which included waiting for sex, were for our good. I certainly never intended on getting pregnant. But one thing led to another which led to another which kept on going and there I was in that bathroom holding a white plastic stick like it was my whole life in my hands because maybe it was.

I could blame my parents. I could blame my childhood experiences. I could blame my ex. I could blame society. I could blame myself. And I have. Then the time comes when you have to let that go. You make your choices, you live with those choices, and hopefully you learn from those choices. I know that God has forgiven me. I have forgiven my family, my ex, the people that could have been there and turned a blind eye, the people who did and do judge me based on a stereotype that may or may not exist - but isn't me. And I pray my son will understand when he gets to the age to ask questions.

Now regarding my own children. I can't lock them in their rooms until they're 30. I know, I've considered it. ; ) They need to be free to live their own lives and make their own choices.

My husband and I are teaching them abstinence. We want them to have a healthy concept of life and love that isn't sex-based. - Sex is good! - But sex isn't for casual relationships or anything short of absolute commitment and monogamy. (You know, like penguins.) And really, in the greater scheme of things, it's not that important. Living is about much, much more than sex! So is loving.

We strive to teach them to be confident enough so that if they choose, they can go against the crowd and march to the beat they find playing in their own hearts. And we are teaching them to have faith and love God through how we live our own lives. We're no where near perfect and we make our mistakes (there are days when I still think I'll never get this down!), we do what any couple does - their best.

We try to be examples of what we want them to imitate so that one day they can take the good and toss the bad and grow even farther. We are involved in their lives. We encourage them and support them. In the end, all we can do is be open about things, always do what we can to keep communication honest, and raise them in such a way that they will know we will always be there for them no matter what they ultimately chose.