I’m 17 years old and I just found out that I’m pregnant once “again”.
I’m not mad or disappointed or angry with myself, but I am scared. I’ve been pregnant twice before and both times, I had an abortion. I know you’re probably thinking what’s wrong with me, but there was nothing I could really do. I first got pregnant when I was 15 and I didn’t keep it because I was listening to my parents and how everybody said it was a bad idea to keep it. So I went along with it and got an abortion. I had never been so hurt in my life.
Then I got pregnant again about 4 to 5 months later and boy, was I planning on keeping this one. I told my parents when I was about 3 months and my dad kicked me out. I went to go live with my brother but he said that I could only stay there if I wasn’t going 2 keep the baby. I didn’t care about what they were saying, I was still planning on keeping my baby anyway. Until I was 2 weeks before I turned 4 months, my baby father told me that we couldn’t afford a baby and that he didn’t want to be selfish and let the baby suffer. So with me having no money or no place to stay unless I got another abortion, I went along with it.
It’s now been a year and two months since I’ve been pregnant and I just found out 3 days ago that I’m pregnant again. Yes, by the same person! I’m a senior in high school and I’m keeping my baby this time. Nobody can change my mind what so ever. I’m back at this again but the difference is now, I’m focused and determined to keep my baby and be the best mother I can be.
I’m 18. I have a little problem.
My boyfriend wants to try for a baby, which I want also, but my twin sister is pregnant with a baby girl due Oct. 19. My boyfriend really wants to have this baby because he feels like it’s time. He told to me he’ll take full financial responsibility of the baby. I don’t have to worry about money or a place to stay. We’re going to be a family. The problem is that my sister’s pregnancy crushed my parents. They were really devastated, so was the rest of my family. I want to have a baby, but I’m scared of how everyone might react. I have already made up my mind that if I’m pregnant, I’m going to keep it but I just don’t know how I will tell my family.
I’m open for any advice. What do you think I should do?
I’m twenty years old. I’ve been dating my boyfriend for almost two years. I was on the pill, we started out using condoms then decided to stop using them. Because I was on the pill.
Well, I had ran out and hadn’t made my appointment yet for a pap and to get a new prescription. We stopped having sex until I was back on the pill. Smart right? No.
I was back on the pill and heading out of town to go out to see him in Arizona and for our mutual best friend’s birthdays. I was in such a hurry to the airport that I had forgotten to pack my pills in my makeup bag.
We thought it would be fine, so we had sex and used a condom. We only had one and had had sex more than once. He thought that pulling out would be fine and so did I. But a month later, I began to get tired and just thought it was PMS. Well I had skipped a period. I took two pregnancy tests. Both were positive.
I’m twenty. I’m not ready for a baby. Neither is my boyfriend. He’s not pressuring me to get an abortion.. He said if I wanted to keep it, he’d help me. Good right?
I’m not ready… I’m going to the doctor tomorrow. But I don’t know what to do. Every story I’ve read about abortion is just horrible. I’m afraid.
OK, so I went to a NA meeting tonight and it helped me come to some revelations.
We were talking about recovery and what we’re most grateful for in it. When it was my turn to speak, I still chose to say, I’m just listening, thanks. But this time, it wasn’t cause I didn’t have anything to say, it was just because I wasn’t ready to say it. So I guess I’ll say it here, here in a place where it is the least likely to be cared about or appreciated, ever.
One of the things I am so grateful about in my recovery is the fact that I can say “I don’t want that shit in my life” and that’s that. Not that horrible part that always follows it: the desperation, fear, addiction, and obsession.
The “I don’t want that shit in my life, but I’m too scared, But I can’t stop, But I don’t know how, But I’m in over my head.” No more ifs ands or buts about it. I can simply say “I don’t want that shit in my life” and that’s that. I don’t want it in my life and so it isn’t. It feels good to be clean and serene. I’m so happy we are clean, we can be clean for our child, we can offer him a safe and loving, supportive home.
Free of abuse and fear. He can trust his parents. I promise to myself to live the best I can and treat myself the way I deserve to be treated, to keep a stable state of mind, to take things as they come, so in return I can offer my child a safe home, with a Mother who is in a stable state of mind, supportive and loving all the way.
I fear sometimes. It’s not all fucking peachy keen. There is still some scary shit out there, I won’t lie, what’s the point? I’m only lying to myself if I do that…I am fearful, fearful of the unknown, fearful of failure.
I believe in myself though, I believe in my future. Sometimes it wavers, but I’m regaining confidence in myself and I believe I will be OK. I know I will.
So Odin is due October 19th now, not the 28th! Ten days earlier, hoo-lee-fuck.
That’s OK. I’m as ready as I’m going to be; getting really tired of waiting. I’m so tired and humongous; it’s ridiculous.
We had the baby shower on the 26th and that was so much fun. There was more than 20 people there! So many presents and good food! Everyone loved the games too which I spent the whole day being bitchy about because “I just knew everyone would hate them.” I bought Odin a car seat today cost me a whole damn 60 bucks… Hahaha, Just kidding! It’s really nice (like you care) and it’s made in 2006, so it’s all good. Stupid car seats expiring all the time.
My mom got him this beautiful hand carved wooden crib that can swing or just stay still (if you put the knob in!). I’m so very, very ready. I find it funny how people look down on me because of my age, almost like they don’t think I can be a Mother because of how old I am. What I find funnier is that the people who doubt me are the peope whom I’ve never met, some who’ve I’ve never even seen in real life. I find it cowardly to attack someone because of their age or race.
Woman (and if you don’t consider me a woman, Girls) have maternal instinct. It is there, no matter what age. We are born with it, after all, we are just animals. And hey, I may be young but you won’t see me drowning my babies, or killing them like some of those sicks fucks out there. Most of which have been older woman.
All in all, I love my unborn child and I will love him forever, I will nurture him, support him and care for him. I will provide for him and there is nothing anyone can do about it, no matter how ignorant you choose to be, condemning me to hell for my age.
I do strongly advise against sex out of wedlock, honestly, unless you are planning on marrying the man and he is planning on marrying you. Make sure you have a stable relationship and a stable environment. Don’t have sex just because it feels good or for whatever reason. Sex is such a personal, beautiful thing. Make it count, make it with a person you love.
I made the decision not to and thankfully (and I mean thankfully!!!!), I ended up pregnant with a man who does love and respect me and our child and does want to marry me. I am lucky though, a lot of girls are not.
Just be safe and smart and it will all be OK. After all that though, I do not regret my son, not in the least. Nor will I ever regret him, for he is a part of me and such a beautiful thing. He is my child and I am his Mother.
There is no place for regret or resentment, only love and acceptance.
My whole life, as far back as I can remember, my parents have never shown me much love nor have they cared much about me. I grew up with 3 brothers who were the ones my parents really loved. Two were older; one was about 5 years younger.
I can still remember the times my parents told me how stupid I was and how much of a bad decision they had made in having me. I felt pretty worthless. They also had quite a temper and could explode over nothing at times, hitting me. And the rest of the time, they just brushed everything passed as if they didn’t care one bit. My parents also drank and smoked a lot. By noon, my mom would be drunk and as soon as my dad came home from work, he would be the same. I was embarrassed by them and ashamed so I tried to spend as much time away from the house as I could.
They didn’t care much about what I did either. As long as I didn’t bother them, it simply didn’t bother them.
When I was 11, I started hanging out with the “wrong crowd,” a bunch of kids all older then me from my neighborhood. By the time I was 12, I was drinking and smoking. By 13, I dropped out of school, not that I had been going there much in the past year. When I told my parents my decision to “quit” school, they laughed and said “so what?” After all according to them, I was too stupid anyway I might as well leave.
I had sex for the first time when I was only 13 with a guy who was 19. All I can remember is getting very drunk and him taking me back to his flat. Everything else is blurry except waking up in the bed next to him the morning after. When I went home, my parents hadn’t even noticed the fact I wasn’t there so that’s when I started sleeping around and staying at his house all the time.
I found out he had slept with 2 other girls (and that’s the ones I know of!!) while he was with me. To get back at him, I stupidly slept with two other guys I pretty much didn’t know, thinking it would make me feel better somehow but it didn’t. After that, I broke up with him.
Soon after, a very close friend of mine asked me out. He was cute, funny, and kind so of course I said yes. Two months into us dating, I fell pregnant but it wasn’t another two months before I realized or allowed myself to realize.
When I told him that a baby was growing inside me, not just any baby, his baby I expected him to run away, to turn his back on me. But to my surprise, he was scared but also excited. Scared since I was only 14 1/2 and he was not quite 17 yet and excited because of this huge adventure ahead of us.
We told his parents first, who said they would support us whatever decision we made and who couldn’t have been nicer about the whole situation. By the time I was 4 months pregnant, I couldn’t hide it much longer so I decided to tell my parents.
My parents rambled on about how it was all my fault and if I hadn’t been so stupid, then it wouldn’t have happened. They also told me I better get rid of “it” because “it” would not be allowed under their roof.
When his parents heard what my parents had said, they straight away told me there was always room in their house for me, no matter what. This baby was going to be their grand-child and they would do whatever it took to ensure it grew up happy.
Within a month, I had moved out of my house and into his place. I have to say it was the best decision of my life, ever. Since day one, his parents have treated me as their own daughter. They are always there for me when ever I need them.
At 15 years old, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Noah. Together, we have been able to, although at times bumpily, take care of “our” son together to the best of our abilities.
Its been a tough 9 months (that’s how old Noah is!!) but worth every second.
