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IN FOCUS: ARTICLE |
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My Choice
Lyndsay Mercier, 06.24.08
My decision not to have an abortion was right for me, which is the true meaning of choice. |
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As I stared down at the pregnancy test with two pink lines on it, the tears came rolling down my face. I couldn't have a baby at 15 years old. There was no way.
From Romance to Reality
The day my boyfriend and I met, we sat on the beach together, watching the sunset. It wasn't long before we were totally in love and inseparable. Around six months into our relationship, we lost our virginities to each other.
In the beginning, we used condoms every time. I wanted to be on the pill, but I didn't know that in my state I could be prescribed birth control without my parents' consent, and I was certain my mother would never approve.
Eventually, we stopped using condoms and began using the withdrawal method; my boyfriend would pull out right before he ejaculated. We knew there was a risk of becoming pregnant with this method, but we assumed that it only failed when the man didn't pull out in time. We didn't know that pre-ejaculate, or pre-cum, can have a small amount of semen in it from a previous ejaculation.
15 And Pregnant
My period was like clockwork; it came every 28 days. But suddenly one month, my period was late, and my breasts were extremely tender. I tried not to worry about it. I kept telling myself that my period was just running a little late, that's all. The end of the week came, and my period still hadn't. My boyfriend and I bought a pregnancy test.
So there I was. Fifteen years old and staring down at two little pink lines. I cried for a long time. Part of me still couldn't believe that it was for real. I kept thinking I must have read the pregnancy test directions wrong, or that my period was still just late.
After I had calmed down, my boyfriend and I discussed our options. We were leaning toward abortion. Although I didn't feel that I could tell my parents about what was going on, my boyfriend felt able to tell his parents. His mother was supportive, but she felt it was very important for me to tell my parents as well. I said that I would tell them someday, but not now, and probably not anytime soon.
Mom and Dad Get Involved
I was at school having lunch in the cafeteria when a school administrator came to tell me I had a phone call in the office. It was my dad. My boyfriend's mother had called him and told him everything. I started to cry.
Much to my surprise, my dad didn't react the way I had thought he would. He said that that he would support any decision that I made. He promised he'd support me if I decided to keep the baby. He also said he was going to call my mom and tell her everything as well, even though my parents are divorced.
After school, I waited in my room for my mom to come home from work. I was so scared; I curled up into a ball and cried. I heard her come into the house, and instead of stomping upstairs to scream at me, I heard her calmly chatting with my stepfather.
My dad must not have told her! I was safe after all! Then I heard her coming upstairs to my room. This didn't make sense. She should have been crying or yelling or ripping her hair out. But instead, she knocked on my door, came into my room, and hugged me. She told me she would support my choice; that it was my body, and I had every right to choose what to do.
My Decision
After a lot of talking with my family, I decided to continue with my pregnancy. Now it was time to deal with another fear I had. What would people at school say? I thought everyone would call me a slut, or that teachers would look down on me.
But none of my fears came true. If anything, I made more friends, because there were so many kids my age who wanted to know all the details of my pregnancy. My teachers were very understanding, and a few allowed me to go to the bathroom whenever I wanted, without even having to ask first. People offered to share their food with me at lunchtime, and even offered to help me walk up stairs, though I didn't need either of those nice gestures. I went to the doctor regularly for prenatal care, and soon, I found out I was having a girl. My pregnancy continued very smoothly.
My Boyfriend's Decision
When I was eight months pregnant, my boyfriend and his mother sat me down and tried to convince me to give my baby up for adoption. When I refused, my boyfriend broke up with me and said that he did not want to be a part of our daughter's life.
I was beyond devastated. But I didn't tell anyone what happened because I didn't want my family to think badly of my boyfriend. I hoped that maybe once he saw the baby, everything would change.
A New Life
Two days after my due date had come and gone, I went into labor. Twenty-three hours later, I gave birth to my daughter. My boyfriend was there for her birth, and he was surprisingly supportive. He even took care of her in the hospital while I was recovering. But he didn't change his mind about being around.
My daughter is six years old now, and I am a senior in college, majoring in psychology. My life hasn't been as easy as the average college student's, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. I am president of my university's chapter of VOX: Voices for Planned Parenthood. I student-teach human sexuality courses, and educate students about sexually transmitted infections and pregnancy prevention.
Even though I chose not to have an abortion, I would never force that decision on anyone else. Not everyone is lucky enough to have the support system that I do, and the decision to become a mother is a highly personal one.
My decision not to have an abortion was right for me, which is the true meaning of choice. |
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