My early teen years was just like any other…
I started high school and had loads of friends. I was determined to find myself as I had always “tried to fit in” in elementary school. I was an honour student throughout! High grades. Teachers loved me. Very social. Never got into trouble. I was taking two dance classes outside of school (hip hop and jazz) and I was a choreographer for the school’s dance team for 3 years (Grade 8-10). I was pretty busy to say the least. I held tryouts and practice after school. We prepped for pep rallies. I even entered my group into a competition after which my high school finally recognized dance as something positive and they incorporated it into the school schedule as an elective. It still remains there today, after 13 years! My life revolved around my school work and dance. The off chance that I didn’t have either to focus on, you would find me at Chapters. It was (and still is) my happy place.
But the normalcy ended there…
This post is inspired by Stephenie, the blogger behind Blended Life Happy Wife, and her post “Parenting Your Child Who Is A Parent.” It was such an interesting read for me that it inspired me to finally write my story. I don’t know why I haven’t written this yet – it sure has been on my list for some time now.
In ninth grade, I started seeing my first “serious” boyfriend, T. We went to elementary school together and never thought we’d be together. Never saw him that way. Funny how things work out though. Let’s fast forward a year…
It’s April and I was in tenth grade. I hadn’t been feeling myself lately. Something was just… off. I told T about it. I wasn’t feeling right. I was moody. I was constantly tired. I slept at home and at school. I just simply knew. My body knew. My mind knew. No, I hadn’t even missed my period yet, but somehow, I knew that I was pregnant. I told T my thoughts and he told me not to jump into conclusions. So I waited. It didn’t come and panic set it but I would wait…. just in case I was just late. Two weeks passed and I still didn’t get it, so I made T come with me to a walk-in clinic. Peed in a cup and waited for results… and what do you know… I was 6 weeks pregnant. Still boggles my mind to this day how I knew I was pregnant before I missed my period.
Let the panic set in
My family and I aren’t overly religious. We weren’t practicing Catholics but I just broke one of our sacred sacraments. I didn’t know how my parents would react.. not as Catholic parents… but as parents in general. Would they kick me out? Would they disown me? What would happen? How am I going to tell them? When I am going to tell them? The questions were endless. I became so depressed… so angry at everything because of the fear. Sure, hormones probably had a lot to do with it – but how was I to control any of that? So I went about my days as usual. I’d sleep at night, sleep at school and sleep when I got home. Thinking about it now, I don’t know if that was due to me being pregnant or because I was depressed. Combination of both, probably.
My memory’s a little fuzzy about this one. It’s either been 2 weeks or 4 weeks since finding out that I was pregnant and I can clearly remember fighting with my mom about something. What were we fighting about? Beats me. I seriously have no clue but in my mind, one moment we were fighting and the next moment I was at my friend’s house. I feel like I’m missing a big chunk there. But my mom picks me up to bring me home. It was dark and she didn’t want me bussing. But on the way home, she parks at my school. I was confused. Why are we here? Why did she park here? What’s going on? She turns to me, asks me to look at her and just straight up asks me if I’m pregnant. I probably froze there for a second or two as my eyes filled with tears. I didn’t answer yes or no but I’m pretty sure – that even in the dark – my action gave it away because all I did was turn toward the car door with my head down. She sighed and hugged me. I know there’s a number of things flying through her mind.
“What am I going to tell your papa?”
That question brought me down. I’ve always wanted to make my parents proud and I knew at this moment that I’ve disappointed them.
Life. Support. Change.
My parents were AMAZING! Even though I disappointed them being a teenage mom, they fully supported me. Early on, my mom asked me what I wanted to do. Did I want to keep the baby or did I want to put it up for adoption? Of course, I wanted to keep the baby!
By the end of my first trimester, T and I had broken up. I realized it before, but even more so now that I’m writing this, that my mom had to make some tough decisions on my part. She made sure I received the right care, booked my appointments, and drove me to them. She said that even though T and I had broken up, if he and his family wanted to be in my baby’s life, they should be allowed. After every OB appointment, we would either go to their place or call them and let them know how I and the baby was doing.
My mom taught me the importance of being wise with money – especially when it comes to a baby. She taught me that I don’t have to buy everything new for him because he’ll outgrow them so quickly. She knew that I wanted to spoil my baby even though it was her money. We found local groups for low income families and they were a blessing! You were allowed to take what you need.
I don’t know exactly how my school found out… maybe my mom and I sat down with the principal. Who knows? But before tenth grade was over, all of my current teachers and teachers I may have the year after knew that I was pregnant. Each of them pulled me aside to let me know that they knew of my situation and that I can come to them if ever I needed anything.
The time came
They wanted me to continue my schooling and graduate. They never forced me to work. It was better to get an education and having bonding time with my little guy.