My Story

I am 17 years old. I have a boyfriend and he is 20 years old. We met when I was 15 and he was 18.

We met through a mutual friend of ours at a party in January. I instantly thought him was cute and sweet, but was a little stand-offish because of his age. However, after exchanging numbers at the party, we began calling, texting and hanging out with each other all the time. We became fast friends and started dating about a month after meeting. No relationship is perfect or without flaws, but after a few months of dating, I knew that we were meant to be together. I had never met somebody who got me like he did. He always knew what to do and exactly when to do it. I could always be myself around him and I felt comfort in knowing that he would never hurt me or leave me when things got tough.. However, that August, we would unknowingly face the biggest test that our relationship had ever seen.

I had missed my period in June but thought nothing of it. When I also missed my period in July, I began to worry. The thought of being pregnant had never crossed my mind until then. Even though me and him didn’t use protection, I was on birth control and thought I had nothing to worry about. I decided to share my concerns with my closest friends. They were really helpful and supportive and went with me to the store to buy a home pregnancy test. Shortly after, I took the test. That two minute wait felt like years. I had never had so many things on my mind in such a sort period of time. I thought about what I would do if it did come out positive, but mostly hoped that it would be negative. I was so nervous, that I couldn’t even check the results myself. So, one of my friends went into the bathroom to check for me. She returned from the bathroom looking like she had just returned from a funeral. I knew immediately what the results were. Nothing was said. All I felt was the tears pouring from eyes and my heart breaking into a million pieces. All I saw was my life fading before me. At that moment, I honestly, truly felt like I wanted to die.

It was almost a week after taking the test and I had yet to tell anyone besides those who already knew, that I was pregnant. Of course, I would have to tell him first. For days, I went through everything over and over again in my head. I thought about my life and his life and the life that we shared. I thought about how much he meant to me and how much it would hurt to have him leave me. I thought about what I would say to him. What words that would come out of mouth to describe how our lives had changed forever. I had to accept such a harsh reality at only fifteen. Even though I loved him, and I knew he loved me … I had to accept that he could very well just leave. What 18 year old guy would want to deal with his pregnant fifteen year old girlfriend. Even though I was younger, I was more concerned about him and how this would affect his life.

All this scared me into a corner. I was sent into serious denial. My fear of losing him and the life that we had created together kept me from telling him or anybody that I was pregnant with his baby. For almost a month, I didn’t talk about my pregnancy or even acknowledge it to anybody. Even my best friends, who already knew. This denial was spun into a reality in early September. Me and him were at a friend’s house with a few other people one night and even though I wasn’t feeling the greatest, everything was going okay. He and I had gone upstairs so that he could get a drink. While upstairs, he offered me a drink that had alcohol in it. While I had drank before, I knew I had to refuse. Even though being pregnant was somehow pushed to the back of my mind, it was still there. He thought it was extremely odd of me to do this and asked me what was wrong. I made up some lame excuse about not being in the mood for drinking, but he kept pushing. I finally told him that I couldn’t drink because pregnant people aren’t supposed to drink. He looked confused at first, but caught on. I cracked and told him everything. I told him that I had known for a couple weeks but didn’t tell him because I didn’t want him to leave. He screamed and yelled and then left. And there I was, alone.

We didn’t speak for awhile. I would see him around, but we said nothing to each other. I guess we didn’t know what to say. I was still showing no signs of being pregnant, so my parents and everybody else had no idea. But, I was feeling more alone than ever. Without him there, I felt numb. I wanted him and I needed him. I couldn’t face this alone. That was my biggest fear.

The silence finally ended near the end of September. He called me and told me go outside. When I went outside, he was leaning on his car. The whole time, I wanted to talk about me and him and the baby that was growing inside of me, but I stayed silent as long as he did. He placed me in front of one of the back doors and opened it, without saying a word. Inside was a car seat. I burst into tears. My boyfriend was back. He told me he was sorry and that he wanted to be there for me and our baby. He knew it was going to change both of our lives forever, but he wanted me and he wanted our baby. He said that we would be a family. No other option was discussed. I would keep my baby, and he or she would make us all a family. He told me that he had already told his parents. They were shocked and upset, but decided to make the best of it. They would love and support me and him through this difficult journey. Shortly after this day, I told my parents as well. My mom cried and my dad yelled. This lasted for hours. But in the end, they too were going to be there.

Over the next seven months, I grew bigger and bigger. I tried hard, but couldn’t ignore the insults and stares from people at school and even complete strangers. I would get all upset and start to question what I was doing, but it was always a full circle experience, and I never changed my mind. I was fat, swollen, nauseous and an emotional rollercoaster for what seemed like forever. We  both celebrated our birthday’s in the time that I was pregnant. It was new and it was different, but we were getting through. It was an experience that I wouldn’t change for the world.

On May 8th, at sixteen years old, I gave birth to my beautiful baby girl, Porshia Faith.