Oh, dear boy. You’re living quite the life, aren’t you? Just come home from the plain state of Oregon–where you left a whiny girlfriend, a good college education, and some friends–wishing you could get your life straight as soon as possible. You’ll do anything it takes, won’t you?
I suppose that includes leaving me and your baby to fend for ourselves. You would rather I take the easy way out and have an abortion. You would rather us return to our old habits of staying out till two in the morning and sneaking into your house to make love till six. Well, I’ve got news for you, buddy.
It’s time to pay for all that fun, because I refuse to kill this child. I have quit smoking. I have given up Tae Kwon Do. I have given up the fall and winter show for school. And I have given up any chance of a prom date for my senior year of high school.
What sacrifices are you willing to make? None. He wants to keep his friends. He wants money to spend whenever he feels like it. He wants to keep staying out till two in the morning, or later, and come home to have sex with whoever he deems worthy.
You told me it’s social suicide. You told me you don’t want contact with me, nor do you want any part of your child’s life. Well let me tell you something.
You’re pathetic. You don’t even deserve to be a father. How I could have fallen for your poisonous words is beyond me.
But you know what? I’ve got a future, despite what I’m giving up. I’ve got college and work and a whole life ahead of me. This child may not have everything in the world to satisfy material needs, but I’m going to be a darn good mother. I’m going to love him or her unconditionally with no regrets what-so-ever. I’m going to carry this child for the next eight months with my head high and my pride intact.
You may proceed cowering in your run down apartment in Kenosha, Wisconsin. I will proceed with this pregnancy.
For any girl out there who questions her ability to care for a fetus on her own, let me tell you. There is a strength in every woman that is unleashed tenfold when she becomes a mother.
Don’t ever question that.
So let’s get this straight.
…I’m pregnant.
Darn it, I’ve got something in my belly that wants more food than I do. To be honest, I had second thoughts about joining this website. I was afraid I’d become dependent on the help and support other girls might be able to provide via Internet.
But I realized I don’t care. Haha. This blog will be my calendar and hopefully, I can make some friends along the way. Daily, I will post cravings that sound gross, gossip I might have heard about myself, and all the general antics of a kid who’s having a kid.
I hope I can amuse you.
Why did I do it?
I was 17. He was 20. We had been together roughly 6 months when I found out I was pregnant. The first thing out of his mouth was ‘We’ll go to Christchurch in the weekend’ (the closest city to us that did terminations). I told him it wasn’t that easy. We had to go through the doctor and arrange the termination through the hospital (in New Zealand terminations are free, as all medical treatment is).
What hurt the most was that he never asked if I was OK or what I wanted to do. He just said what he said then walked out of the room. I went to the doctor and arranged it all. But it was harder than I thought. My aunty was the abortion counselor for my city and all abortions are arranged by her… I had to wait till she went on holiday the next week and arrange it through her receptionist, which in turn meant I couldn’t go for counseling.
So two weeks later, when I was 11 weeks and 6 days, we drove to ChCh. I usually get car sick on long journeys but my mind was so lost and in another world that I was fine the entire way there.
My boyfriend and I arrived after midnight and checked into the arranged hotel. I didn’t sleep a wink all night. I just lay awake holding my tummy.
I never really talked to anyone about what I wanted to do. I just went along with the first suggestion.
The termination didn’t hurt. What hurt was when they gave me the pill to soften my cervix and allow it to dilate. The nurse told me that once I took this, there was no going back and if I decided not to go through with it, that the pill would cause my baby to be born with bone deformities and so on. I cried, holding that pill in one hand and with my other hand rubbing my tummy, almost as if I was saying goodbye. My boyfriend didn’t even look up at me as I cried.
I swallowed it. I said goodbye. I followed the nurse into the cold white sterile room. She lay me on the bed…….
…….I walked back to my room….bleeding. The nurse told me to lie back on my bed. I asked her if I could have something for the blood. She denied me and said I had to lie there for 30 minutes, then I would be allowed to get up and go to the toilet to ‘fix myself up’ as she so kindly put it.
Afterwards, the nurse asked my boyfriend to walk me around the garden to get some fresh air. I felt fine and we drove home a few hours later. They call it a ‘day procedure’. It may only take a day as they put it but it scares a life time.
My partner and I are still together, and it took him two years to finally admit to me that he was wrong and the choice we made was wrong and that he was sorry and he too thought of what our baby would have been like.
Everyday, I think about the baby I so mercilessly let die. My baby. My love. My own little Love.
As a senior at my high school, I was asked to assistant direct Ayn Rand’s “Night of January 16th” which is a courtroom drama about the death of a multimillionaire and the trial of his secretary and mistress, Karen Andre. Throughout the production, many characters from security guards to gangsters testify. It was my first play to assistant direct and I was extremely excited about the whole situation. We held auditions and some of my best friends and people I didn’t even know existed tried out. Overall, we had a glorious turnout!
The play was cast and when we started rehearsal, I sat with my stage manager and we talked about the characters and the boys who played them. Then it came to the part of Homer Herbert VanFleet, a hired detective with a thick New York accent and a joy for the more leisure ways of life. It was then that the boy I never knew before was brought to my attention. Fairly tall and stocky, with dark hair and the most beautiful green eyes I have ever seen. And quite honestly, with his metro clothing, my first thought was that he had to be gay. There was no way this kid could possibly be straight. He was sheik and charming, captivating, really.
Being the type of person I am, I sought out time outside of rehearsal to become closer to my cast so that they could trust me and I could trust them. On one of these occasions, I soon discovered that my stage manager, also fancied this curious fellow. There was a certain flare of exotic intoxication. He was stylish, charming and Uruguayan. How could he not be a catch?
Over the month following, my stage manager dated him and we flirted nonetheless. My friend and I seemed to fight over him, as well as other girls outside of the theatre. After a break up between them, there was a time where they were simply friends. We ended up at a super bowl party together and started to get friendly. Two weeks later, he asked me out and of course, I said yes.
Unfortunately, I get carried away very easily. I invited him to stay at my place and we slept together. The next day, he ended everything and started dating someone else. Over the months between his breakups, I was his little pick me up. The girl that couldn’t deny him and loved him fully, even though he just wanted a bit of rebound booty. Unfortunately, in June, he got far too used to my company and actually slept with me when he was dating someone else.
Of course, he wanted nothing to do with me after that and didn’t want to tell his girlfriend anything. I was wrought with both guilt and jealousy. I found his girlfriend and told her everything. She was probably the most remarkable person I ever had the pleasure knowing. She was willing to forgive him and help him through everything, but he would have none of it. He ran from his problems and even went as far as starting drinking, which was a huge issue because he was so against it before.
A few weeks later, I took a pregnancy test. The purple plus sign was so tragic. I told him and he was excited at first, and then decided he didn’t want to deal with it. Being strictly against abortion, and being completely incapable to complete college with a child, I decided on adoption.
Since then, I have been primarily alone in all of this. I don’t have the father of my baby with me. I can’t tell my family until I have a place to live because there is a high possibility they will kick me out. I am two months pregnant with my Little Uruguay. My beautiful, exotic baby is growing inside of me. And even though we hardly talk anymore, there will still be a part of us in this world, laughing and smiling. I will remember our moments of true feelings, however brief, and simply hope that some day, he will come around again and want to know what is going on inside of me.
Well, I’m 19 years old. And I have a wonderful 13-month-old son, who is my life. But I recently found out I was 8 weeks pregnant.
My first thought was what was I gonna do? I already have a baby. And my boyfriend and I aren’t ready for another one. but we talked it over and we decided to keep the baby with the support of our families. Now I am a mother of 1.5 kids. and I’m only 19. My life was hard and as soon as it seems like it’s getting better, I get a bomb shell like that.
Now I’m happy that we decided to keep it. I can’t stand the morning sickness but I’m looking forward to the future.
So I finally got the guts to tell my mom I’m pregnant after my last doctor’s appointment. I told her the doc told me I was 8 weeks pregnant. She flipped out on me and now wants me to get an abortion.
How do I tell my best friend, my mentor, and one of the very few people that truly cares about and wants what’s best for me, “No”? I know she is not mad at me like outraged, she is more mad in a way where she is worried for me. She “knows” I am not ready for this and she knows that I’m very sensitive but she believes it would hurt less if I got an abortion.
She had three abortions before she had me, and it was because her husband at the time didn’t want kids. She felt why would she want to have children with a man who doesn’t want them. She then told me once she had me in her arms, she realized why she did all of that. She said all the pain went away when she realized all those things happened so she could cherish the moment she was finally ready to have a child and give it a stable life.
I don’t know what to do. I understand what she wants is what is best for me, but I don’t think I can give up my baby so easily. She says it’s because I’m not done with school and I can’t work. Also now a days, you can’t trust just anybody with your baby. She let someone babysit me once besides family and the lady left me in the house with some pervert. She was of course outraged and never wanted to leave me with anyone as irresponsible as that. Later on I found out that the women that was watching was the mother of my mother’s best friend. So you can’t even trust people you know. I just don’t know how to convince that I can do it with so many negatives.
I can’t ask her to help support me and my baby either, because she has a baby of her to take care of right now. So how do I support a baby with no means of funds and no way of being able to do it?
