"Unprotected, god I'm pregnant" (not now! Just a fitting song lyric)
You know that post I hinted at? The one where I spoke of a show I am watching lately?
I lie, I've watched it forever. It's a soap opera. I know that half of you probably are like..whoa! and your estimation of me just went down a few notches. I'll accept that, but I have to share what story line is making me think lately.
This teenage pregnancy story line is kicking my ass.
I cry almost every time they get to that part. And why shouldn't I? I know more than most how hard being pregnant at 16 can be.
16! It blows my mind now. That's so YOUNG. It's mere years away for my child, and he's so young. When I see young moms on the bus, I'll admit that I feel sad for them. Cause there is so much you don't know when faced with something like that at that age.
Like how some of my hardest times have been recently, or perhaps they are only just freshest in my memory.
Or how I looked at ALL my options. I ultimately decided that abortion was not something I could do at that time. I also emphatically support it. Abortion is something people should be able to choose.
How I went to visit with the Holt adoption agency, how I considered not knowing my own child.
I don't think I took Jake's opinion, or perhaps he was just willing to let me decide, I don't remember, much into account, but I felt like I should explore any and all options available to me.
I do know that I seemed to know from the beginning that Jake and I wouldn't make it in the long run, ie. how Derek has my last name. Even then I was like..well, IF we ever break up, it would be easier for Derek to have my last name. What a shitty thing to say. I also must have just assumed that I would end up with the kid, yes, it's the most likely scenario, but dads raise kids all the time. It happens, and I didn't even take that into account. I should give not give myself such a hard time though, I was young.
It just seems so goddamn young to me, yet I did it. I realized that what I had to do was raise my child. That that was my best option. Not for everyone, but that's the road I went down.
And it really didn't seem like a big deal to me. I was too much "in it" to realize. I was just at the point where I went from one motion to the next.
I don't know if I mentioned this already, as I'm writing this after a big break, but it's just BLOWING my mind that a 16 year old can be pregnant. That this happens ALL THE TIME. It really does. I should know, I did a report on it in middle school, not that all those statistics I looked up helped me in the long run.
And when I write all this, what continues to impress me is that I was a runaway at the time. No home to live in, a baby on the way, at least I still had a boyfriend (and the father of my child).
Granted, I was actually 17 when I had the kid. An age I just thought of as...well, I'm almost 18, and that makes me an adult.
Excuse me while I laugh wildly. Cause um, no. 18 does not make you an adult.
What really amazes me is how little I really thought of it back then. How little "props" I gave myself for doing something amazing. It just became the way of life.
Perhaps it's all the women having babies around me (two of my very dear friends just had babies this year (last year?) and another is going to. Granted the last one had a kid at almost the same age as myself), but perhaps it's the baby craziness that really hits home with this whole storyline on my show.
I remember how New Roads told me that I HAD to tell my mother I was pregnant. I think I would have just not said anything if I could have gotten away with it.
Not another thing to add onto my list of bad kid things I did as a teenager.
I called her and danced around the subject. I mentioned how I'd gone in to get myself on birth control (ha ha ha ha ha-how ironic is that?) and they told me that I didn't NEED birth control. She thought that meant I was unable to have a child (again, ha ha ha ha) and I had to tell her that no, that wasn't the case.
I'm pretty sure I dumbfounded her. I SHOULD have known better. Indeed, I'm lucky as hell that I didn't get an STD or something.
I've never been STUPID, just kind of dumb occasionally. Usually where boys are concerned.
From there, things just seemed to roll along. I found a doctor, I found the pregnancy shelter, I found a part time job to add to my part time job at the house, and I made damn sure I would graduate from high school before I had Derek.
Funny enough, it was only that last month when it really hit me. First of all, the idea of the pain (!), then the idea that I would be carting a baby around everywhere. Not just a baby bump, but an actual baby with all their amenities. Carting around a huge belly had not really bothered me, it was more of a captive audience. I talked to the bump daily. People probably thought I was crazy as I didn't look pregnant for quite awhile.
I lucked out on morning sickness, had little to none. I would feel completely nauseous if I ate sugar in the morning, but that was it.
The idea of actually pushing the child out of my body was a bit too much, I kept assuring Derek that he could stay in there for as long as he wanted. And I kept hoping to just go to sleep and wake up to a baby. Which kind of happened.
The boy was born on his due date, barely. The labor kicked my ass. I vaguely remember the fog of pain, and I was so happy when they decided they could give me an epidural finally. I slept for a tiny bit, drifting in and out of "Pulp Fiction" and hearing all the people coming and going. I remember deciding that I would just keep my eyes closed and they wouldn't bother me.
Which worked, again, for a bit. Then they decided to do a C-section and I was so happy that they were finally going to get this child out of me. While I had assured him that he could stay in as long as he wanted, it was getting a bit uncomfortable with all the pressure and waddling around. I remember how I was the one who seemed least worried by the prospect of surgery. May have been the epidural, but I just knew that my baby would be fine.
I've been reading quite a few infertility blogs lately. It's a scary thing to not be sure that there will really be a baby once one actually gets pregnant.
I felt like I couldn't go wrong, of course there would be a baby, it was such bad timing, I couldn't possibly miscarry or have anything go wrong. It just wouldn't work that way, and I'm ashamed to say that when I did briefly think of such a possibility, I just figured that would mean I would not have to make this baby choice.
I can't even imagine how I would have felt if Derek hadn't made it. I mean...I feel worried, sick to my stomach, downright panicky when I think of something happening to him now. I don't think I would make it. And it's a damn scary thing, but sometimes kids die.
God, I'm so damn morbid today. I was starting this post as a proclamation of my awesomeness, and instead I've descended into dead child mentality. No reason to, my kid appears as healthy as I always was as a child, and yet my brain goes there.
Thanks brain.
I'm so very done with this post. I just don't know how to end it. So, I'll end it here. Aren't you glad I don't get so damn introspective daily?
And yet part of me wonders if I would not have a child at all if I hadn't had one so accidentally. The world is a damn big scary place.
I lie, I've watched it forever. It's a soap opera. I know that half of you probably are like..whoa! and your estimation of me just went down a few notches. I'll accept that, but I have to share what story line is making me think lately.
This teenage pregnancy story line is kicking my ass.
I cry almost every time they get to that part. And why shouldn't I? I know more than most how hard being pregnant at 16 can be.
16! It blows my mind now. That's so YOUNG. It's mere years away for my child, and he's so young. When I see young moms on the bus, I'll admit that I feel sad for them. Cause there is so much you don't know when faced with something like that at that age.
Like how some of my hardest times have been recently, or perhaps they are only just freshest in my memory.
Or how I looked at ALL my options. I ultimately decided that abortion was not something I could do at that time. I also emphatically support it. Abortion is something people should be able to choose.
How I went to visit with the Holt adoption agency, how I considered not knowing my own child.
I don't think I took Jake's opinion, or perhaps he was just willing to let me decide, I don't remember, much into account, but I felt like I should explore any and all options available to me.
I do know that I seemed to know from the beginning that Jake and I wouldn't make it in the long run, ie. how Derek has my last name. Even then I was like..well, IF we ever break up, it would be easier for Derek to have my last name. What a shitty thing to say. I also must have just assumed that I would end up with the kid, yes, it's the most likely scenario, but dads raise kids all the time. It happens, and I didn't even take that into account. I should give not give myself such a hard time though, I was young.
It just seems so goddamn young to me, yet I did it. I realized that what I had to do was raise my child. That that was my best option. Not for everyone, but that's the road I went down.
And it really didn't seem like a big deal to me. I was too much "in it" to realize. I was just at the point where I went from one motion to the next.
I don't know if I mentioned this already, as I'm writing this after a big break, but it's just BLOWING my mind that a 16 year old can be pregnant. That this happens ALL THE TIME. It really does. I should know, I did a report on it in middle school, not that all those statistics I looked up helped me in the long run.
And when I write all this, what continues to impress me is that I was a runaway at the time. No home to live in, a baby on the way, at least I still had a boyfriend (and the father of my child).
Granted, I was actually 17 when I had the kid. An age I just thought of as...well, I'm almost 18, and that makes me an adult.
Excuse me while I laugh wildly. Cause um, no. 18 does not make you an adult.
What really amazes me is how little I really thought of it back then. How little "props" I gave myself for doing something amazing. It just became the way of life.
Perhaps it's all the women having babies around me (two of my very dear friends just had babies this year (last year?) and another is going to. Granted the last one had a kid at almost the same age as myself), but perhaps it's the baby craziness that really hits home with this whole storyline on my show.
I remember how New Roads told me that I HAD to tell my mother I was pregnant. I think I would have just not said anything if I could have gotten away with it.
Not another thing to add onto my list of bad kid things I did as a teenager.
I called her and danced around the subject. I mentioned how I'd gone in to get myself on birth control (ha ha ha ha ha-how ironic is that?) and they told me that I didn't NEED birth control. She thought that meant I was unable to have a child (again, ha ha ha ha) and I had to tell her that no, that wasn't the case.
I'm pretty sure I dumbfounded her. I SHOULD have known better. Indeed, I'm lucky as hell that I didn't get an STD or something.
I've never been STUPID, just kind of dumb occasionally. Usually where boys are concerned.
From there, things just seemed to roll along. I found a doctor, I found the pregnancy shelter, I found a part time job to add to my part time job at the house, and I made damn sure I would graduate from high school before I had Derek.
Funny enough, it was only that last month when it really hit me. First of all, the idea of the pain (!), then the idea that I would be carting a baby around everywhere. Not just a baby bump, but an actual baby with all their amenities. Carting around a huge belly had not really bothered me, it was more of a captive audience. I talked to the bump daily. People probably thought I was crazy as I didn't look pregnant for quite awhile.
I lucked out on morning sickness, had little to none. I would feel completely nauseous if I ate sugar in the morning, but that was it.
The idea of actually pushing the child out of my body was a bit too much, I kept assuring Derek that he could stay in there for as long as he wanted. And I kept hoping to just go to sleep and wake up to a baby. Which kind of happened.
The boy was born on his due date, barely. The labor kicked my ass. I vaguely remember the fog of pain, and I was so happy when they decided they could give me an epidural finally. I slept for a tiny bit, drifting in and out of "Pulp Fiction" and hearing all the people coming and going. I remember deciding that I would just keep my eyes closed and they wouldn't bother me.
Which worked, again, for a bit. Then they decided to do a C-section and I was so happy that they were finally going to get this child out of me. While I had assured him that he could stay in as long as he wanted, it was getting a bit uncomfortable with all the pressure and waddling around. I remember how I was the one who seemed least worried by the prospect of surgery. May have been the epidural, but I just knew that my baby would be fine.
I've been reading quite a few infertility blogs lately. It's a scary thing to not be sure that there will really be a baby once one actually gets pregnant.
I felt like I couldn't go wrong, of course there would be a baby, it was such bad timing, I couldn't possibly miscarry or have anything go wrong. It just wouldn't work that way, and I'm ashamed to say that when I did briefly think of such a possibility, I just figured that would mean I would not have to make this baby choice.
I can't even imagine how I would have felt if Derek hadn't made it. I mean...I feel worried, sick to my stomach, downright panicky when I think of something happening to him now. I don't think I would make it. And it's a damn scary thing, but sometimes kids die.
God, I'm so damn morbid today. I was starting this post as a proclamation of my awesomeness, and instead I've descended into dead child mentality. No reason to, my kid appears as healthy as I always was as a child, and yet my brain goes there.
Thanks brain.
I'm so very done with this post. I just don't know how to end it. So, I'll end it here. Aren't you glad I don't get so damn introspective daily?
And yet part of me wonders if I would not have a child at all if I hadn't had one so accidentally. The world is a damn big scary place.
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