Now what? 14 and pregnant, now 15 and broken.

Hello, my name is Grace. I live in Wales, UK. I am 15 years old, but I left school two years ago due to the fact that mentally speaking, I am an adult, and it was deemed wrong for me to continue high school. I enrolled in a college course in september 2010 to finish my gcse’s, which I started aged 11. I am not considered on the autistic spectrum, I just have a high scaled IQ and advanced mental development. This is crucial to my story. 20th of November 2010, I fell pregnant aged fourteen. I knew, after about a week. I was sure that not only was I pregnant, but that there was a huge decision to make. At that point I was Pro-Choice, but I knew that abortion really wasn’t for me. I know myself well, and it just wasn’t an option. Adoption wasn’t really a possibility. I told my boyfriend of 3 years of my belief that I may be pregnant. His first words were ‘I knew it. You’re not, like, totally against abortion, are you?’ Which I thought was odd, because he violently opposes it. I suffered terrible morning sickness, and when I was around 8 weeks gone, made me do a test, she’d had concerns because of my sickness for a while. The test? Positive, of course. I’ve never been happier. I thought she would support me. She told me if I did not kill my baby, her life would be ruined, she would have to move. That’s all she said to me. Didn’t ask me how I felt, or if I was scared. She herself is a mother of five, lost two babies and she has three girls still here. Both my older sisters fell pregnant at 17, gave birth aged 18. She is 52, she is a mentor at a university, and is a member of a religious group that does not condone termination of pregnancy. I thought that would save my unborn child, but no. To skip over details that are not the point of this message, I found myself in hospital at exactly 10 weeks gone, my baby being pushed out of me while I vomited. Hours gone by after this, the night shift came in and I made them let me go. I sat down, in the car, with a box on my lap, with my name and a barcode on it. My baby, in a box, resting on my stomach. I screamed, feeling the numbness lift finally, knowing that I had been forced in to the worst thing yet to happen to me. I have been violently raped twice, but in that car with my mum and my dead love, that felt like a tiny scratch on my heart compared to the fissure that had just torn open. My mum’s words? With a reference to her religion, she just came up with ‘Your baby had no soul yet anyway.’ AND THAT WAS IT.

I still feel as broken as I did that day. I’ve been dying, slowly. I let that happen to my baby! It wasn’t my choice, but I went with it because I was scared, and lost.

I’m still lost. I NEED to be pregnant again. I even might be about a week gone, I certainly haven’t taken any preventative measures. I had an IUD fitted after the termination, but one night, while watching a TV show about pregnancy (which I do often, what’s more torture on top of this?) I pulled it out. Someone had already taken my baby, Nobody was taking my ability to try again. Pretty stupid for the supposedly super-smart chick.

I buried my baby. That 3inch long, bright red creature in the little plastic baggie with tissue.

I grew up even more in that moment.

My boyfriend loved the baby as much as I did, by the way, and he feels as I do. Our lives are on the wrong track since our child was ripped away, and we both wish so deeply that I should fall pregnant again, though we both fully understand that this is a completely irresponsible, silly way to think.

I just need someone else’s view. I’m not taking measures against falling pregnant, but I only sleep with my boyfriend once a month or so. If it happens now, great, if it doesn’t it will sometime in the next two years.

Please don’t tell me to ‘Get help.’ I have sought help.

I need your opinion, as many as you can give me. Please look at this from all sides, please view this through my eyes.. I wake every day and smile, feel for my bump, realise, and cry.