I grew up in a somewhat religious house hold but a very religious city. I was 16 and I was dating a 23 year old.. gangster. Nothing wrong with them, they are very respectful, also very poor. In El Paso Texas most of the city is below the poverty line, and Jose was well below. We had only been together for about 3 months before we starting having unprotected sex. Things at home were very shaky, as I was a rebellious teenager. My dad thankfully, worked hard enough to keep us in middle class and like any other parent wanted the best for his oldest daughter, and Jose wasn’t the best.
I was 16 and I knew I was pregnant very early, I could just tell. I was so scared I tried to do everything I could think of without having my parents find out. I would take excessive amounts of painkillers and eat a lot, or not eat at all. Hoping my body could just naturally get rid of this “baby”. I could no longer hide it after my visit to my gynecologist, she came into the office with a smiling face and the news “you’re 8 weeks pregnant!” I burst out crying and my step mom knew something was wrong when I stepped out of the office. I remember my fathers and moms face when I whispered “I’m pregnant”, my mom being a wonderful parent hugged me and told me “everything will be okay” and my dad walked away in disbelief. I couldn’t believe it either, I didn’t want to have Jose’s baby, I didn’t want to be a mother I didn’t even love my should have been baby daddy. Over the next few weeks my dad looked at all of my choices, adoption, him keeping it and raising it, but never abortion. He talked me into adoption and started buying clothes for my soon to be huge belly.
I did my research as well, but landed on talking to my oldest brother. He was the product of a 15 year olds similar mistake with someone she didn’t love. He told me to abort it, he didn’t want that life for my unborn fetus. He didn’t want me to have to give up a child after falling in love with her in my womb. Coming from someone.. who lived the life my baby would have lived I took his opinion over everyone else’s. I didn’t want my body to stretch just to give it up, I didn’t want to put that burden on my parents, I didn’t want to be stuck to Jose for the rest of my life, I didn’t want to be a mother.
I gave my baby back to God on April 2, 2010 she was 11 weeks and 3 days old. I cry as I write this story remembering that pain. I ruined relationships, I was hazed at my school, and I fell into depression. It was the hardest thing I have ever gone through, but I don’t regret my decision. I wish I had never been in that situation in the first place. Because of that life changing experience I want to educate girls and help share my story and the story of others so we can prevent her from being in my shoes in the first place. I wish I had more people to support me, so I support other people going through the same thing. It is our choice, it is a hard one but it is OURS.