August 18, 2004

This can’t be right. Oh man this is funny. I can’t believe this says that I’m pregnant. Imagine if I really was. What would my parents do to me? Would I get fat? What would I do? Could I run away? Would I keep the baby? Would I be able to raise it?

Could I be a good mom at 18? Am I a slut? Would anyone even want anything to do with me? What would my life be like? Could I do this?

No. I can’t do this. I won’t do this. I can’t keep a baby. This really isn’t happening. This wouldn’t happen to me. I have plans. My life isn’t going to be this. I will not be another pregnant teen. I can’t even live my own life. How can I raise another human being?

No, I’m supposed to barely graduate from college because I had too much fun. Then not use my degree because all I’m going to do is travel the world.

I’m sweating. Why am I crying? I can’t see. I have to get out of this bathroom.

At least my best friend James is here. I can tell him. I have to tell my boyfriend, too. James doesn’t want me to yet, but my boyfriend just walked into the room. He has to know, but there's no way I can say the words. I feel so humiliated. Is this all my fault?

I know. I'll write it on a piece of paper. "I'm pregnant."

August 26, 2004

A week has past, and it's clear that it's getting to both of us. My boyfriend and I are still living our lives like I'm not pregnant. As much as we don't even want to mention it, we know we have to figure out what we're going to next. Coming back to this park I've been to many times before feels totally different with everything that's going on. He's been thinking all along that I should have an abortion because we're too young and immature to raise a child. And besides, with all the drugs and alcohol I've consumed, the baby would never be "normal." Nobody else could know about this. Nobody.

September 20, 2004

It doesn’t seem right making this appointment, but I have to call Planned Parenthood. I’m not going to be a mother even if that means making the biggest mistake of my life. All I know is that I’m lost in reality and I’m not going to change my life for something that’s just coming to destroy me. I love drugs, I love drinking, and I’m not going to change for anything, especially if I can’t see it, feel it, or don’t know it.

September 27, 2004

It's 9:30 a.m., and I feel sick. I'm hung-over, and I can't make it. I'm going to call and re-schedule my abortion appointment.

October 10, 2004

We're all hung-over for my second appointment, but it’s no big deal. I’ll just make another one.

October 28, 2004

Walking into Planned Parenthood wasn’t that bad. His hand was still with mine and that’s what kept me calm. I guess 13 weeks is too late to erase my mistake, and the Planned Parenthood lady hands me a piece of paper with 12 places I could go to still have an abortion. She recommends four. It’s illegal, but at least it will all be over soon enough.

November 5, 2004

It’s growing. Can I do this? If these places are willing to do this, then it can’t be that bad... right? $1,200! We don’t have the money, and we need to get out of Des Moines. We can't handle this much stress, and we both deal with it the same way by trying to get away from our problems. But I'm on probation and can't leave Polk county. We're going to Ames, anyway. That's far enough. My probation officer shows up to talk to my parents. They knew I’d be with him.

November 10, 2004

Jail. Pregnancy test. Positive. I’ve known this for weeks. Why does it mean something now? I’ve been poisoning my body for so long, and now this lady hands me these prenatal vitamins. Now I’m nurturing this baby that isn't real to me.

November 23, 2004

I'm out of jail. My body is changing. Abortion is no longer an option. My favorite black cable knit sweater is buying me time to figure out what I’m going to do and how I’m going to deal with the outcome.

December 1, 2004

Everything is so confusing. Everyone's telling me something different. His mom brings up a good point: There are lots of families who want a baby. Adoption? My mom brings up a good point that with her love and my family behind me, I can raise this child. Days keep going by, and I’m finally taking time to think about what’s really going on and what I want. Can I do this? I think that I can. My mom believes that I can raise the baby, my baby. This is what I want to do. I want to keep my baby. Someone’s going to disagree with me, but I have a feeling that this is what I need to do. I can breathe again. I’m no longer wondering what’s going to happen to everyone around me. I know what’s going to happen with me. I have my own family. Everyone is calm now.

Today

Noah was born on May 1, 2005. Soon after, my boyfriend and I realized our relationship wasn't working. He was still living the kind of life we were living before we had Noah. I didn't want to live that way anymore, and our differences were destroying our relationship. In June, Noah and I moved in with my parents, and that was the point when I began a nurturing and loving relationship with my son.

About a year later, my ex-boyfriend's brother invited me to church. I didn't want to go because I thought I'd be judged for being a single mom. I finally agreed to go and found that my preconceived notions were completely wrong. No one cared about my past mistakes; they cared about my life now. They genuinely loved us and cared about how my life could be used for the Lord. A week later, I realized what that meant and what it was going to take. I put my faith and trust in Jesus, and I haven't looked back.

Noah is now almost four years old, and he is growing up in a Christ-centered home. I didn't know I could love someone as much as I love Noah. Although raising my child and working to provide for him is one of the greatest joys I could possibly imagine, it doesn't compare to the amount of joy I find in God's love. It was because of that love that God gave me Noah and brought me through everything he did so that I could have a relationship with him.

Photo by Justin Meyer