Why I Kept My Baby

I was sixteen, walking down the hallway of my high school, and it hit me. I was late. I don't mean late for my next class either. I told myself I was paranoid and that it couldn't happen to me. So I waited, and still nothing happened except my anxiety grew. I told my best friend that I might be pregnant and with in a week she had brought a pregnancy test to school for me to take. We went into the bathroom after second hour and I took the test. In a matter of less than a minute two little lines crumbled my world. I had to figure out how to tell my parents. I knew they would throw me out of the house. My mind was racing. I was late to my third class but that was the least of my problems. I had three choices. I could keep the baby and raise a child at the age of sixteen, I could give the baby up for adoption, or I could have an abortion and never tell my parents. I decided against the third choice. I personally could never have an abortion but in my panic I did consider it. So with my two options I had left, I still had to break the news to my parents.

I let a few weeks go by and then my mom told me she needed to talk to me. She was concerned about some things she had heard and wanted to make sure I wasn't making any unwise decisions. This opened the floodgates. I didn't have to figure out how to tell her, she practically asked me. So I told her the truth. We both cried and she said we would get through this. I was still scared but surprised at her support so far. I still needed to let my dad know and that was the real scary part. I knew he wouldn't let me continue to live there. My mom and I actually thought that the stress of thinking I was pregnant might have actually delayed my period so she had me take another pregnancy test and that one came back negative! I thought I was in the clear and I would definitely make wiser decisions in the future. This should have eased my stress enough to allow my cycle to normalize, or so I thought. A week went by and still nothing happened so I took yet another test and once again, it came back positive. My world was crushed all over again and my mom was there to witness it.

We worked out a way to tell my dad and, although it wasn't easy, it went much smoother than I expected. My parents talked alone about our situation and when I was called back into the room I had another tough decision to make. They told me that I wasn't going to be kicked out of the house. They also told me that not only was this going to be my child but it was their grandchild. I had the choice to either keep the baby or put him/her up for adoption. After much thinking and praying, I decided that I couldn't spend nine months carrying this baby and then just give it away. I was going to keep my baby and do my best to take care of it. My parents said they would help me but that they were not live in babysitters and they would not take over my responsibilities. I was also going to finish high school and continue working as long as I could.

My mom made a doctors appointment for me and we made sure that my prenatal health was taken care of. I never missed an appointment. I also got on Medicaid and on WIC. This took care of health insurance for me while I was pregnant and for the baby after I gave birth. My mom also found a program to help teen mothers finish school. It was called the Teen Parent Program. They offered daycare while I went to school and I would be close to my baby. I was even able to breast feed the baby during class when he/she got hungry. The nursery was in a room right next to where class was held. Because there was limited space in the nursery though, you could only attend for one school year. This was my junior year that I attended and then had to decide where to attend for my senior year.

On January 10th, 1997, Joey was born. He was so beautiful. Life was tough living with my parents and having a baby, but it wasn't the end of the world or my life. Things just changed. My whole outlook on life changed. I wasn't doing things for me anymore; I was doing them for Joey. My younger sister was nice enough to baby-sit for me while I was at work, for a minimal wage. I was getting better grades in school than I had my first two years in high school. I finished my senior year with straight A's and a semester early.

I am now 24 years old, married to a wonderful man, and have two beautiful boys. Joey is now six years old and doing wonderfully in first grade and my youngest son is almost four going on thirty. I hope this testimony of mine gives you hope that your life doesn't end when you get pregnant at a young age, it just changes. For me, I feel my life changed for the better.