Choosing life: a teen mom’s pregnancy story

The summer I turned 17 I found out I was pregnant.

I was not the first pregnant teen in my family, but knowing that did not bring me comfort; instead, it did the opposite.

When I was 13 and my sister was 16, she became pregnant. I remember being in the delivery room as they joked that I was in there to learn to not have a baby young. While seeing my sister scream in agony while having my nephew, I thought I did learn that lesson.

Flash forward four years: I just turned 17 and had my first real serious boyfriend. I can’t say what went on, but mix in hormones and teenage impulsiveness, and you have two kids who were not very careful.

I can still remember that day very vividly—the day my life changed.

I won’t bore with the specifics, but by the end of the day after a missed period and a weird bubble-like feeling in my stomach I decided to take a test. The test said to wait four minutes for the result, but after sitting on the bathroom floor—for fear of fainting—a minute later I had to look.

Sure enough there were two dark blue lines.

I was a pregnant teen who felt like my life just ended.

After discarding the test where no one could find it (i.e. wrapped in toilet paper and shoved into the bottom of the trash can), I ran to my room where I immediately started to make list of my next move.

  1. Call boyfriend and tell him the news.

  2. Make a list of all of my pregnancy options.

  3. Notify best friend for support.

  4. Forget all that and just lie in bed crying.

I went with option 4 until I felt like I got it all out of my system. Then I called my boyfriend, who assured me he would support whatever decision I made. My decision, I told him, would be abortion.

My parents’ faces of disappointment flashed before my eyes at the thought of telling them that I did not learn the lesson I was told so many years ago.

The next day when I was home alone and no one around to overhear, I called the local abortion clinic. As soon as someone said “Hello,” I immediately hung up. What was wrong with me? There was no way I could keep this baby, so why did I feel so scared? I took a deep breath gathered my nerves and tried again. My voice quivered as I told the operator, “I’m pregnant and I need an abortion. When can I come in?”

As she started to tell me the available times, something once again pulled inside me. I interrupted her and, without thinking, blurted out, “I can’t do this!” and hung up.

I decided I needed more time to think about things. I was 17, still in high school—a child now was not the plan for my life. So, I did the least logical thing: I decided to push the pregnancy out of my mind. I thought if I ignored it enough the problem would just go away. The problem with that is the growing stomach and
constant nausea were just daily reminders that I indeed was having a baby.

I remembered my sister going to a pregnancy center that helped her with my nephew. I knew they provided tests, so I figured I would go there and get a confirmation that I was pregnant. I made an appointment with the Modesto Pregnancy Center (whose medical clinic is now called First Choice Health Services), and after they confirmed my pregnant, they asked if I wanted to listen to the heartbeat. I was curious, and I said yes.

Hearing my baby’s heartbeat for the first time ignited something in me.

This was a baby, a living being growing inside of me.

I knew then and there that I was keeping my baby.

I will admit that after coming to this conclusion, the fear of telling my family was still very much on my mind. My family loved my nephew regardless of the circumstances of his birth and timing; he was very much wanted. So why did I convince myself that my child would be any different?

I let my boyfriend know I made up my mind: I was keeping our baby. Imagine my relief when he was happy about that decision and promised to be there for us.

My next hurdle was telling my mom. I did not plan a way of telling her, but instead blurted it out when I knew I could not hide it from her any longer. She was hurt, I remember that; she was angry, I remember that as well. But she forgave and was there for me. She took me to my doctor appointments and was so convinced I
was having a boy that after several sonograms saying it was a girl she still did not believe it.

Just like my mom, the rest of my family love my daughter. She is their granddaughter, their niece, their children’s cousin. They love her and want the best for her.

Although I did not plan being a teen mom I would not change a thing. There was a lot of learning and growing up to do, but I have no regrets for the way my life took a turn.

My daughter is 15 now—a young woman of her own—and I cannot imagine not having her in my life. She is an amazing, smart, beautiful, kind human being. She is my best friend, and sometimes she makes me want to rip my hair out—thank God those times are rare—but just having the privilege of being her mom is my greatest blessing.

I try to remember how I was at her age. It honestly feels like a lifetime ago, but I see myself in her a lot. I’ve done my best raising her, and I hope she has always felt loved by me. My wish for her is that she never makes a decision she would regret for fear of how I would react. I hope she knows she can always come to me, because even though I may be mad for a little bit, I will love her no matter what.

Always.

Although I did not plan being a teen mom I would not change a thing. There was a lot of learning and growing up to do, but I have no regrets for the way my life took a turn.

My daughter is 15 now—a young woman of her own—and I cannot imagine not having her in my life. She is an amazing, smart, beautiful, kind human being. She is my best friend, and sometimes she makes me want to rip my hair out—thank God those times are rare—but just having the privilege of being her mom is my greatest blessing.

I try to remember how I was at her age. It honestly feels like a lifetime ago, but I see myself in her a lot. I’ve done my best raising her, and I hope she has always felt loved by me. My wish for her is that she never makes a decision she would regret for fear of how I would react. I hope she knows she can always come to me, because even though I may be mad for a little bit, I will love her no matter what.

Always.