Eventually all things fall into place. Until then, laugh at the confusion, live for the moments, and know everything happens for a reason.

— Albert Schweitzer

At just 16 years old, standing 5’2, weighing 95 pounds, there I was hovering over a positive pregnancy test in my at the time, long term boyfriend’s bathroom. Never will I forgot the first words that dropped from my mouth as I focused on the two pink lines- “Oh Fuck” I exclaimed without emotion. The words just bluntly fell- and in that split moment so did the tears.

However, in those few seconds while anxiety swept through my veins, an inner peace came. Could I really feel joy from this? Carrying a child nearly 2 weeks stray from my 17th birthday?!- No. I blocked out all potential- I had to keep my options open.

For at the time I would have considered myself “Prochoice.” Although, looking back at the situation it’s impossible to imagine doing anything other than following through with the pregnancy. I mean, it was my choice to have sex so young- I felt the need to take responsibility.

Flashback to August 2017, there I was, inching out of my boyfriends bathroom shaking. He must have already known what I was going to say, for I saw his face drop too. Yet to my surprise, he was supportive. But enough about my daughter’s father- that’s a whole other story at this point in time. No longer are we together.

I first called my doctor and spoke with my doctor who as you could imagine, was concerned. I mean, its’s not everyday a 16 year old calls up crying saying she’s pregnant- I wonder if her MD ever prepared her for this? After the conversation, I had my doctor call my mother and tell my mom for me. In this day and age peers may look at that and classify me under the definition of being a “pussy.” Yet, quite bluntly- in the moment perhaps I was.

Moving forward with my mother’s reaction she was quite relaxed- which I was beyond grateful for. Yes, the “I told you so” card was thrown out into the conversation for she did tell me not to have sex. But considering she cried when I had told her I lost my virginity- her reaction was more than I could have ever asked for. Some other teen parents I can imagine were not so lucky.

In fact, during my whole pregnancy I can’t recall telling anyone about my pregnancy personally besides maybe a few close family members. Primarily, the information was just constantly passed down by word of mouth. But maybe that was a good thing. I didn’t deal with anyone’s reactions until they had a chance to process the information and contact me personally- which one could say, was a plus? At this point, who knows.

Now my father- he was another story. His reaction I will NEVER forget. And not necessarily that it was awful or devastating what so ever. It was actually comical- bear with me here, i’ll explain. Now you see, I come from a strongly devoted christian household. My father went to Manhattan college and I kid you not (aha funny use of language i know), owns more bibles that I can count. When we spoke he said to me clearly, “Well, Mary had baby Jesus at 13. Your’e 16-that’s 3 years ahead, you’re fine.” I still get laughs every time I explain this story to people, for most expect a father to pull out a shotgun and hunt down whoever “impregnated their little girl.” But let’s also not forget that although I was the youngest, and had three older brothers, my father has a job where he communicates with people all over the world- this is not the worst he has heard or seen by far.

to be continued…

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