Teen Pregnancy Prevention

I told him about the baby. He broke up with me. His parents sent him away to attend school in another state. And he didn’t fight it at all. He wasn’t interested in being with me, raising the baby or ruining ‘his chances’ at making it big one day.

So then, being 17, without a boyfriend, possibly getting kicked out of school and not knowing what else to do, it was time to go to the parents. My mom actually guessed before I could tell her. She started crying, hugged me tight and said we’d get through it. My dad flew off the handle, stormed out of the house and didn’t come home until late, late that night (he went back to his office). But when he did get home, he came to my room, gave me a huge hug and told me everything would be OK. That he’d take care of me and whomever else came along.

A few days later, the word was out at school and I got called into the principal’s office and expelled immediately. I was forced to empty out my desk in front of my peers and so-called friends (and my little brother) and walk out of the school without finishing my junior year.

Reality sets in here. Goodbye happy life with basketball star. Goodbye standing on the steps of Harvard … and goodbye career in full judicial glory. Hell, at this point, goodbye even graduating high school. I was another statistic. A pregnant teen, destined to depend on mom and dad forever, work somewhere earning minimum wage, no benefits and more than likely with no growth potential … basically, all the negatives everyone says about teen moms, I was then forced to face. And it freaked me out. Let’s not even talk about the fact being pregnant is totally not the best way to continue to do teen-agerish things. No more social life, no more cool clothes (maternity clothes are UGLY) and feeling ‘great’ is difficult when you’re suffering from morning sickness, extreme swelling and even the smell of some foods sends you running to the bathroom to hurl. Oh yeah, then there’s the constant bathroom breaks, the belly the size of about five watermelons and the stretch marks. Not to mention the funny looks someone gives you when they realize you’re a pregnant teen. It’s either ‘the pity look,’ ‘the disgust look’ or the ‘you’re a slut look.’ People judge. It’s a fact.

Mom and dad were great, though. They were encouraging, paid for my prenatal care, even though we didn’t have insurance (so I know it was a hardship) and asked that I figure out how to pay for my hospital care and taking care of the baby once he/she came.

Let’s see: I knew how to cook, clean and I sucked at math. I could basically do … nothing.

So, I mowed lawns on weekends, and worked for my dad during the week. And slowly but surely as the time drew closer to have that baby, I had paid in full the expected hospital bill. No Medicaid, no Medicare, no welfare, no anything. I did it. And I was proud.

Of course there were other mini tragedies in the mix between all this and the day I had the baby. I went to summer school, finished my junior year. I would attend school for my senior year at a neighboring private school once the baby was born. I was rejected by tons of people I thought were my true friends and would always be by my side. But I was embraced by unexpected people who I would’ve thought would be the first to judge. So maybe it evened out.

And then it was time...

***Story Continues***