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Yes, I Am a Teen Mom

And No, I Don't Regret It

By Kindle FyrePublished 7 years ago 7 min read
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My son, May 22, 2016

I want you to take a moment to think about the words 'teen mom'. What do you see? Is it Juno, in her skirt-jeans combo? Or Farrah, Maci, and Amber as background noise as you scroll through your phone? Maybe there's even a family member you think of.

Now what words come to mind? Regret, ignorant, mistake, irresponsible? Your feelings, are they positive, or negative?

For a majority, they're negative, and I can understand why; having a kid so young when you aren't even sure about who YOU are yet is not that good of an idea. You should think about having fun, being young, and making mistakes before having a family. 'Live a little, before giving your life up!'

I have to admit though, I was never more alive until I had my son.

I had my first ultrasound three days before my high school graduation. I was the epitome of 'unfortunate child'; homeless, living in the house of my boyfriend's mother with little to no personal possessions, as the family that disowned me refused to let me have any. And as a scared teen girl, I obliged. I was staying 35 miles from my high school, and nearly had to drop out as my district refused to provide transport for me under their homeless student program ("You're too far, and besides, you're old enough to have a license, just drive a car," they said to the student who was wearing the same jeans for the 3rd day in a row); If it wasn't for the aid of my old AP History teacher, Mr. Scarlett, I would have dropped out. My life screamed 'obstacle', and reminded me of that by presenting it in the form of a 7 week old fetus on a flat screen.

Now, while I am adamantly pro-choice, I decided to take this challenge and keep the peanut-shaped hellion that was making me lose weight from constant sickness. With this challenge came stigma, the unapproving voice people have when they utter the words 'teen mom'. Upon learning I was graduating high school, the sonographer flashed a look of distaste before composing herself, plastering on a fake smile. We did not hear any type of acknowledgment from an uncle-to-be until my significant other (Which will be referred to as SO from here on out) confronted him, to which he just adamantly said he was just really upset - and he barely acknowledged it until that upcoming Christmas. We even planned on moving from the east coast to central America to better ourselves, when a certain family member proclaimed (loudly, in front of other IHOP patrons) that we wouldn't be able to do it alone because we were too young.

To them, we were young, and therefore any other credentials were shadowed by that one fact.

My SO got three jobs, and once the morning sickness released its hold on me, I was showing too much to be hired - instead, I resorted to some very questionable business trades that may or may not have been legal (I plead the 5th). We accumulated eight large boxes worth of baby clothes, a crib, a convertible car seat, and little toys and blankets all on our own. I had no baby shower, due to the attitudes of those around us, so therefore every little thing came from our own hard work.

But still, that was not enough. We would still get side eyes at Steak N' Shake, were disrespected when we requested certain things for our child and ourselves as parents. We refused to announce on social media for the same reason we barely talked about my growing son; we were scared of the looks, the talks, the general disregard for us. Because everyone knew how our son needed to be raised but us.

Our son was blessed to us on 01/01/2017 at 1:17AM - his lucky numbers. This was the day we announced publicly, more out of obligation than anything, as the local news station reported his birth as one of the first of the new year. He was well received, which calmed a lot of our fears, and yet there were still questions, such as my secondary education, or what we will do in the event that my National Guard SO was activated, or deployed. How was I going to take care of him with no family of my own to help me? How did we expect to juggle our young lives and take care of a baby? They would have been pretty valid questions, if it wasn't for the responses after our answers; "I guess you guys have some thinking to do about your responsibilities".

Despite that our situation then is now nearly akin to a family member expecting, we were still perceived as young and ignorant. I requested no kissing my son, as I got to personally watch my 4 week old brother flatline due to whooping cough; I still caught people sneaking kisses. I wanted him to be kept close during family get togethers; he was passed around once I allowed a certain family member a hold. Where my SO and I felt constantly scrutinized for wanting a baby shower to the point of not having one, the family member in the same situation as us just wrapped hers up yesterday. We were both jobless, struggling - she is even staying in the same bedroom now that we vacated. What hurt me most is that, while this is my first child, this is her second - the first she lost custody of due to her negligence. Yet, for some reason, her child is celebrated more than mine was.

This constant feeling of mediocrity followed me everywhere and affected every piece of my life. I feared doctors would view me as unstable as well, and never sought treatment for the postpartum depression that was running rampant in my mind until I began writing my suicide note to my son. I was surrounded by people, yet felt so alone; they weren't under the microscope, watched closely for any slip ups so others could scream "see, you're too young!" I was. And it was breaking me.

So, adamant on a new scene, we left, going with the moving plan we presented a year prior. With this move came freedom; I was no longer the irresponsible teen friend they knew who threw her life away, but the young mom looking for outlets for her love of writing. I was able to control my first impressions, become more confident in myself as a woman and a mother (once I battled the PP Depression demon, a whole 'nother story).

And now, here I am, sinking into my too-soft couch as my son jokingly tries to close the laptop while I type. I hated the stigma of teen moms, but also partially understood; there were times when I had no idea what I was doing. But I also did, yet never trusted myself because it was ingrained into my mind that I was too young, and therefore too unknowing. I do still hold grudges against every look of disappointment, every action in spite of me. However, I am also happy for all of it, because I was able to surpass my homeless status, teen mom predictions, and come out on top, with my son and fiance by my sides. There's nothing I miss; the last party I went to was in 2011, and I love having my son there so I don't slip into any of the self-destructive tendencies that follow most college-age kids. Before my son, I was a lost teen, too scared to plan ahead as it usually ended up in shambles anyways; now, I'm a strong willed mother, who has a reason to get up and do good every day. And right now, as I look at the faces of my love and our son, hear their laughter as they play a video game together, I know I don't regret a single moment. For it gave me them, and with it, gave me purpose.

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About the Creator

Kindle Fyre

Kindle Fyre (a pen name, both to secure privacy and a play on a popular ebook device that shares her name) is an aspiring freelance writer, hoping to move on from college forums to sharing her sundry works and writings with a wider audience

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