Some days hearing news of another baby found in a dumpster or abandoned is enough to make me hide crying at home. It shakes me to my core. I find my soul screaming WHY??? And in the next breathe I hurt so desperately for them I wish I could simply hug them.
So tonight you are going to learn part of my shocking truth. While my political stance may differ, my personal beliefs for myself are prochoice.
Let's go back 22 years. I was a freshman away at college at age 18 and pregnant by a boy I barely knew. Terrified doesn't describe the fear I had.
How many young women out there have had it drilled into their minds and hearts that if the were to get pregnant, their parents will "kill them"? Or be disowned and left homeless/broke/alone? How many have found themselves alone and terrified when parents follow through on these disgusting threats?
I'm going to challenge your hearts for a moment. How is raising our girls terrified of becoming pregnant prolife? How is bullying a young mother into hiding or aborting prochoice?
We have created this disgusting trend of dead babies. We as a society can battle until we are blue in the face our political stance on the topic. We protest both sides of the discussion with gruesome signs or catchy slogans. But when an 18 year old girl gets pregnant from a boy from the wrong side of the tracks, what do we really do as a society? A community? As human beings?
I am one of the lucky ones, but my parents were crushed and very embarrassed. I thought I was making things right by agreeing to marry the baby's dad. I went through the steps of a crazy fast wedding (didn't want that baby bump showing at the alter!) and once my name was changed, my parents allowed themselves to fall in love with their grandchild when she arrived, but not a moment sooner.
I was in a very violent situation with a new baby when I made the scariest decision of my life. I packed up a backpack and a diaper bag and left. I had nowhere to go but back home. They allowed us to live there while I divorced the monster and went back to college, but every moment I lived there I felt like their dirty little secret. My daughter was the most loved little girl on earth, yet my own family couldn't get past how she came into this world. I felt the disapproval every moment of every day. Our relationship was tarnished.
I could have easily been one of those girls giving birth in a bathroom. Panicking and placing my baby in a ridiculous place. I acknowledge that not to shock, but to put a face to the stories. I am one of the lucky ones who somehow found the strength to face a family who felt humiliated and betrayed by my actions. A baby was brought into this world to be absolutely the best thing I have ever done in my life. She changed everything. My world as well as everyone around me.
I was the best story many had to gossip about. I had broke up with the stereotypical high school boyfriend for this guy? My "friends" as well as their parents found plenty to chastise me for. One parent even said to me if it had only been the old boyfriend, things wouldn't look so bad.
Bitch.
And I was one of the lucky ones. My baby was loved. Everyone fought over time with this precious child. I was part of the package that was tolerated. Nobody encouraged me in a loving way. Instead I felt like a walking billboard for birth control. I felt my entire village waiting for me to fail so they could swoop in and fix my mess again. To this day I over apologize for the most ridiculous things. From school, to work, to parenting, my every step was constantly scrutinized. My right to privacy was somehow ripped out from under me because I was a young, single parent.
A few years of night school, working full-time, daycare/preschool, and I began to like myself and the life I was building for us. Around that time I began looking at apartments for us and making plans to finally stand on my own 2 feet. That year I met my husband. When I found my own spark again, was building towards a future, and liking getting up every morning, I was able to share my life with the man I never knew I was dreaming of.
But I will always be that 18 year old girl who was terrified. My subsequent pregnancies never felt quite right. I was always a bit embarrassed by my swelling belly. The physical reminder of that horrible year brought great anxiety. I would not allow anyone to take pictures of me or touch my belly. I felt such joy to have my children, yet embarrassment.
With CJ, my age and maturity finally allowed me the ability to enjoy the little moments. I let go of so many old feelings of inadequacy and marveled at the changes happening to my body. That embarrassed 18 year old still lingered in the shadows, but I had better control over my emotions.
So why do these women make these incredibly horrendous decisions with their newborns? I don't know. But if I am one of the incredibly lucky ones, they must feel completely without options. I hope to break this trend with my daughters. I pray I am succeeding in being an example of how to stand up for your beliefs. But most of all, they need to know that I will love and support them through every moment of life. My heart is always open to them as well as my arms. We will get through anything together.
I am breaking the cycle by talking not only about sex, but self esteem. We discuss the reasons girls find themselves in the arms of boys and how there are consequences for every action. I concern them with honoring themselves and feeling good about the decisions they make instead of threatening them with isolating them from my love. Mix in a healthy dose of my faith and experience. Watching your mom loose a baby in your teen years is an eye opening sneak peak into heartbreak. Reality is something we have been forced to deal with in our home in multitudes.
But what about those dumpster babies? We have created this mess. We need to fix it. Or we have to accept dead babies in dumpsters.
Food for thought from a teenage mom...
#doitforcj
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