Today I watched a video that someone had shared on Facebook. It was a word association experiment with women ages 15-50 in which their reactions to the word “abortion” were filmed. I heard people respond with words like “scary,” ” very sad,” “unfortunate” and “death.” I also heard statements like “none of your business,” “right,” and “necessary.” The most commonly used phrase though, was “choice.” And they’re right, to have or to not have an abortion is a choice that many women of all ages, races, ethnicities, religions, regions, education levels and economic classes have to face every day. I, myself, was put in the position where I had to make the very same choice.
When I found out I was pregnant I was scared. I was 19 years old and struggling to make it through my first year of college. I was lazy, unmotivated and distracted. I had just recently gone through an awful ugly split from my high school boyfriend of 3 1/2 years and I was trying to find myself again. After so long with someone, you’re not just breaking up with a person, but who you are when you’re with them and all of the hopes and dreams you had planned together as a couple (no matter how ridiculous and naive they seem in hindsight). My future as I had planned it was torn out from under me and the walls were crumbling down around me. Adding a baby to this mix was the last thing I thought I needed, but it turned out to be the biggest blessing of my life.
So there I sat, on April Fools’ Day, the biggest fool on the planet. Pregnant. Alone. And scared. But I was never truly alone in this. Even before I knew it, Holden was with me there. I went into an ER that day by chance. I almost didn’t go in at all. After a four hour car drive from home to school, I decided I should probably seek out medical attention for the sharp kidney pain I had been experiencing on and off for years. This particular day it was unbearable and at the urging of my friend, I decided to have it checked out. The doctor asked for my symptoms. I told her I was nauseous all of the time. She asked if I could be pregnant. In my head, I (kind of, sort of, not really) took birth control so the no period thing was normal and I had been single since the beginning of February. Not only that, but even when I was still dating my ex, I only saw him a few weekends out of the month because of the distance. He lived back home and was still just trying to make it through his senior year of high school. In my 19 year old brain, there was a 0% chance I was pregnant. But I was. No CT on my kidney was performed as planned. The radiation could hurt the fetus, the doctor told me. She sent me back to my dorm with a piece of paper that said “incidental finding” and “HCG positive.” She told me that the pee test came out “very positive” because I was “very pregnant” which meant I had been pregnant for some time and had been clueless. You don’t ever think it will happen to you, but it can and it does.
Telling people that day didn’t go so well. No one believed me. It was April Fools’ Day after all. I cried for a very short amount of time. I used humor to my advantage to get through the week, but once the shock set in for good I found myself struggling to come to terms. I knew I needed to see a doctor to see how far along I was, but then I remembered my sister’s situation.
Three years before, my sister took a home test and found out she was pregnant. I went with her to the doctor and they almost pressured her into keeping the baby. She wasn’t planning on NOT keeping the baby, but she was going in open minded and aware of all of her options . She was living at home still and the father wouldn’t be around. The doctors office didn’t ask how she felt, they assumed that she was there to keep the baby and make a second appointment and receive a goody bag of vitamins and pamphlets showing a fetus in utero smoking a cigarette and enjoying a glass of wine. I didn’t know how I felt so I didn’t want that to happen to me.
I had always believed myself to be a strong pro-life person, but my situation showed me that you truly never know how you feel until you’re the one in the hot seat. A friend of mine took me to a no pressure clinic to get an ultrasound. As I waited for my turn in the back I saw things that changed my life. I saw girls come in clinging to their boyfriends and crying. I saw girls coming in alone and unafraid. But most importantly of all, I saw a young girl come in at the age of around 12-14. She was with an older, stern faced grandmother and an unapproving mother. I wanted to reach out to her. I wanted to hug her. I wanted to talk to her so badly, but instead I watched as she was called into the back and I watched as she was escorted out by her mother after the procedure. She was so drugged up she couldn’t walk out of there. The others she was with had no change in expression.
We all sat in there facing the same choice. Most of them walked out of there having made one, and I walked out making another. Once I went back, there wasn’t a friendly or comforting staff. Everyone was straight to the point and apathetic to my own personal struggle. They saw a million pregnant people a day coming in to terminate. It was just an average day of work for them. For each of us though, it was a life changing decision that needed to be considered carefully. They handed me print outs that explained how each procedure was done and while it may have been necessary for some women to have those options available, I didn’t think they were right for me. After my ultrasound I expected a copy of the print out that was shoved in my file I was disappointed when none was handed to me, but I understood why. That’s how I really knew that I wasn’t going to have an abortion; I was upset when I couldn’t see my baby. I knew that if I had an abortion I would probably look back and regret it, but if I kept it, even on the most difficult of days I would look back and say, “I can’t imagine my life without my baby.” And I was right.
So I left that place, but I still needed to make sure I was making the right choice. I reached out to a number of other people I knew had sat in this same seat. I spoke to friend’s moms, some of which had abortions themselves. I heard stories from women that had both abortions and babies. Most of the abortion stories I heard hurt my heart. Women depressed and crying in bed for weeks. Women still mad at themselves for it. And while I know, understand and respect that not all women feel this way about abortion, I knew that that’s how I personally would feel if I had one. I would feel guilt and I would feel sad and I might be even more depressed after losing a baby and a relationship and that might leave me in a really bad place, one that I didn’t ever want to revisit again.
But I also knew that having a baby would be just as difficult. I was working part time scooping Italian ice into cups. I was going to school for a degree in film. The job outlook in that sort of field isn’t always promising. I would have a baby to support now. How could I do it at all, let alone that I would be doing it with absolutely no support from the dad who told me on day one he wanted nothing to do with us? It seemed impossible at the time, but here we are today: happy and thriving.
Happy as Harry Potter to be exact
The combination of constant morning sickness, shame, embarrassment, secrecy, and depression caused me to isolate myself during those last weeks of college. I would order a large cheese pizza and Mountain Dew to be delivered to my dorm every night and finish off any cold leftovers for breakfast until it was time for a new pizza again. I binged Netflix on my phone from the time I woke up until around one in the morning. My friends, worried about how I was coping, tried to get me out grocery shopping for healthier food. They were tired of seeing me in bed with a half eaten pizza on the floor while Dora the Explorer played because I was too emotionally and physically exhausted to even change the channel or turn the tv off. Dealing with every day was a struggle because having a baby didn’t just mean making a new life, it meant starting over myself. I had to restart, rebuild, and try again at life with what I had as of that moment (which wasn’t much).
I was called names. I heard accusations. Stories went flying. All because I was pregnant at 19 and on my own. It’s human nature to love a scandal, but even when people were asking for my side I could see they already had preconceived notions and opinions on something that was really none of their business. This turned me into even more of a hardened cynic. I became paranoid of people because I was tired of fighting for my reputation and for my innocent baby’s. One person even posted a comment laughing at my ultrasound photo. Well the jokes on them, because I am a better person and a happier person now thanks to my son.
Because who wouldn’t be happy when you get to wake up to this on Christmas morning?
Once the initial shock wore off, I was looking forward to having a baby. I love kids. I always have and I always will. Kids are my passion. I think there’s some sort of connection between having a not so pleasant childhood and wanting to help preserve that in other children once you grow up. Just call me a grown catcher in the rye. Up until that point my world had revolved around my nephew. He had been born and raised in my home and I loved spending time with him. A baby of my own was a welcome addition. I was just grateful to have someone to give my love to.
Kaden, the first baby boy to steal my heart and my best friend.
There were days though when I thought I couldn’t do it. I didn’t think I was strong enough to be a single mom. No degree. No job. No boyfriend/husband/father. No plan for the future. But I was so incredibly blessed with a generous, unselfish, open minded and caring family and best friends that all stepped up to help me through.
On the ugly days I looked into adoptive families. I found one in particular I loved. A gay couple with a son already. They had Ivy League degrees and taught law and English at prestigious schools. This family could give my baby what he deserved and needed. It would be a good, safe and educated home with financial stability and love. These guys would appreciate the gift I could give them and now I feel guilty and selfish for not having given them that gift. Sometimes I admit to myself that Holden deserved better and that maybe I did the wrong thing for him by doing the right thing for me. All I can do is hope that one day he thanks me for giving him the best I possibly could rather than resenting me because it wasn’t enough. I think that’s what I’m most afraid of.
I knew my baby deserved a life that in that moment I couldn’t give him. I needed a degree because I needed a job because I needed money because Holden needed me. I practically picked a career out of a hat. My best friend’s parents were both respected medical field professionals. She was also aiming for a career in that area, so we looked into other jobs that were good money for a quick degree.
Thank god for Caitlin
That wasn’t good enough for me though. I love school and I value education. An associates degree would never leave me satisfied. Plus I knew how disappointed my family was that I was the first in the family to go to college and I was already moving back home after a year. That’s how I found Radiography; A two year degree that would give me enough money to get by while I worked my way through a bachelors program and eventually (hopefully) a masters.
I almost didn’t sign back up for classes. I had Holden in November of 2013. I didn’t have one of those beautiful pregnancies people gloat about. I was sick. I gained 70 pounds onto my slender 120 lb frame. I saw special high risk pregnancy doctors. I went into preterm labor twice and got steroid shots in my butt. Holden ended up needing physical therapy for Torticollis because I was walking around 7 cms and +2 station for longer than I should have. I was put on bed rest, but I slept on a couch because my bed hurt my back. I felt my ribs separating. I had family say hurtful things like “you shouldn’t be allowed to wear a two pieced bathing suit” and “I’m surprised your guy friends would be seen out in public with you.” My epidural didn’t work. I lost so much blood I needed a transfusion. Having a baby alone was the absolute saddest and loneliest thing I’ve ever done. It was beautiful and it was happy, but it was also so very sad to be alone with my child. It was not a fun time for me and I didn’t want to face the public again. I wanted to stay home with my baby and ignore reality for as long as I could.
That’s me.. biting stuff because labor is no breezy ride through the park.
I credit my best friend, Caitlin, for getting me back into school. She helped me pick a career. She went to my first class with me. She woke up early and stayed up late quizzing me for tests. She had been to doctors appointments and helped me do my registry and threw my shower. She even watched Holden while I went to class. She helped me in ways I couldn’t even help myself. She was there and I am so grateful to this day that I have someone that cared so much.
Jessica Ashley Photography… and yes, we got family photos made.
So I was back in school and I was back with a vengeance. I wasn’t there to waste my time or do the minimum anymore. I was there to fulfill prerequisites in the hopes of being accepted into a competitive radiography program. I had 2 semesters to rack up enough points to get in. It was a long shot, but somehow I made it happen. I’m now a 4.0 student studying something I love with goals for the future. I don’t even recognize the old me anymore. I am a completely different person today and it’s all because of Holden.
When I made a choice to have a baby, I made a much bigger choice than just having a baby. I made a choice to love this baby, to be his advocate, to be his friend, to be his rock. I made a choice to be his mother. I made this choice knowing that things could change at any moment for better or for worse. I made a choice with no certainty of the future or what it brought for us. I made the choice to work hard so I could someday repay Holden for all he has given me.
I chose my son over myself. I chose his future and dreams and happiness over what I wanted. I chose to center my life around him instead of me. I chose to give up my early twenties nights of bar hopping for nights at home with a bottle of milk instead of tequila. I chose to devote my free time to studying and getting ahead on homework instead of socializing and dating like normal college students my age. I chose to clean up the throw up of a sick child while I juggled exams and projects. I chose court and sacrifice and to give every part of me I had for the rest of my life to this little person I made. I chose the hardships and the struggles because with them came the most beautiful and pure love I could have ever imagined.
Pardon the rough “I’m still learning how to do this” look.
While having a baby isn’t the right thing for a lot of people, Holden was the right choice for me. Even though I still mess up on occasion, I’m trying my hardest. All I want as of now is to make him proud of me. I try to be the kind of student I want him to be. I try to lead by example and teach him to be a respectful and thoughtful person. I try to not lose it when life gets to be too much for me to handle. I try to make it through one day at a time.
I want so much for my son. I want Holden to value education. I want him to appreciate the opportunities given to him. I want him to take advantage of all that life offers. I want him to find meaning in life. I want him to get lost in whatever he’s passionate about whether it be reading or dancing or playing the drums. I want him to find someone that loves him just as much as I do, and I want him to treat that person with respect and love; whether it be a male or a female or anything in between. I want Holden to have morals and values and believe in something, anything. I want him to be grateful and see the good in other people. I want him to see in himself what I see in him. I want my son to be a person he’s proud of. I want him to be a hardworking and unselfish man. But above all else, I want him to know just how much I love him.
I gave up so much to be Holden’s mom. It was the greatest sacrifice I’ve ever had to make. And it isn’t just a one time choice. I make it over and over again every day. I chose to dedicate my life to Holden and given the choice again today and tomorrow and for the rest of my life I will always choose my son.
I choose Holden.
Another of my favorites from Jessica Ashley Photography
I choose my son.
justaseachange 