Hi, I am Liz and I want to tell you about a story that I thought to be the end of my life but it turned out to be a new beginning. To make a long story short, I got pregnant when I was 15. Shocking, isn’t it?
It all happened in high school, in my junior year. The year of sweet 16, driving permits, and junior prom. The year I met my first boyfriend and got into a naive, head-spinning first love. We weren’t very attentive about contraception, neither were really well-informed on the matter. Then for a few weeks I had no period, but I didn't worry as my cycle was still immature. Until one morning my reflection surprised me. Had my fairy godmother come? My breasts looked fantastic. A lightbulb went off. Suddenly all I could think was, I might be pregnant.
An ad for a clinic that was offering free pregnancy tests grabbed my attention, and I went. A friend drove me. The woman walked me through the pregnancy test. A tiny plus sign materialized. Then my world crumbled.
I put on a fake smile and kept moving through a resemblance of normal life. It was only a matter of time before my parents figured it out: my breasts were growing; my stomach would soon follow. I wasn't sure how my parents would react and I didn’t want to be influenced by their opinion on the matter. Now I regret I wasted time in doubts.
In the meantime the gossip was spreading. Odd calls and stalking from concerned teens I knew and even some worried parents threatening to involve my parents in order to prevent me from drastic solutions. I was infuriated – not that I was tending to them but it was supposed to be totally my decision! What’s more, in my understanding it was me who was to inform my parents so that is how we finally had a talk.
They were inevitably distressed about the pregnancy but vowed to support me whichever path I chose. And after my boyfriend told his family, his mom called mine. They pledged unwavering support. I would have been lost without all of them.
Even with all that love, life as a pregnant teen was awful. Sixteen was not sweet. Dreams of college vanished. I was ashamed. I was depressed. September arrived; the school year began without me. I finished the year with home-schooling, isolated. Friends visited, but it hurt to hear about their life without me.
By that point, my boyfriend and I didn't like each other very much. We disagreed on literally everything. So when I came to delivery I was in pieces. My daughter arrived two weeks early after 23 hours of labor. I'm not sure how I tolerated it, but my mom, my boyfriend, and my boyfriend's mom were by my side.
Throughout all of this, I endured lots of public contempt. I was lucky to have had endless support. I can't imagine what life is like for girls who are forced into motherhood or embrace it alone.
Some time now has passed. My boyfriend grew into a wonderful dad. Eventually, as we became adults, we parted our ways, but he's there for our girl and he travels hours to spend time with her.
It all happened in high school, in my junior year. The year of sweet 16, driving permits, and junior prom. The year I met my first boyfriend and got into a naive, head-spinning first love. We weren’t very attentive about contraception, neither were really well-informed on the matter. Then for a few weeks I had no period, but I didn't worry as my cycle was still immature. Until one morning my reflection surprised me. Had my fairy godmother come? My breasts looked fantastic. A lightbulb went off. Suddenly all I could think was, I might be pregnant.
An ad for a clinic that was offering free pregnancy tests grabbed my attention, and I went. A friend drove me. The woman walked me through the pregnancy test. A tiny plus sign materialized. Then my world crumbled.
I put on a fake smile and kept moving through a resemblance of normal life. It was only a matter of time before my parents figured it out: my breasts were growing; my stomach would soon follow. I wasn't sure how my parents would react and I didn’t want to be influenced by their opinion on the matter. Now I regret I wasted time in doubts.
In the meantime the gossip was spreading. Odd calls and stalking from concerned teens I knew and even some worried parents threatening to involve my parents in order to prevent me from drastic solutions. I was infuriated – not that I was tending to them but it was supposed to be totally my decision! What’s more, in my understanding it was me who was to inform my parents so that is how we finally had a talk.
They were inevitably distressed about the pregnancy but vowed to support me whichever path I chose. And after my boyfriend told his family, his mom called mine. They pledged unwavering support. I would have been lost without all of them.
Even with all that love, life as a pregnant teen was awful. Sixteen was not sweet. Dreams of college vanished. I was ashamed. I was depressed. September arrived; the school year began without me. I finished the year with home-schooling, isolated. Friends visited, but it hurt to hear about their life without me.
By that point, my boyfriend and I didn't like each other very much. We disagreed on literally everything. So when I came to delivery I was in pieces. My daughter arrived two weeks early after 23 hours of labor. I'm not sure how I tolerated it, but my mom, my boyfriend, and my boyfriend's mom were by my side.
Throughout all of this, I endured lots of public contempt. I was lucky to have had endless support. I can't imagine what life is like for girls who are forced into motherhood or embrace it alone.
Some time now has passed. My boyfriend grew into a wonderful dad. Eventually, as we became adults, we parted our ways, but he's there for our girl and he travels hours to spend time with her.
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Short film