Fastly approaching the 1 year Anniversary of finding out I was pregnant, I thought I would share what the whole discovery was like (whilst I still remember.)
So, it was Friday 26th February 2016, I had been feeling a little out of sorts for a few consecutive days now, for no reason that I could think. In the back of my mind I had some niggle I could be, all symtpoms I searched (via Dr. Google) all came up with pregnancy related sites and suggestions.
Sunday 28th February, I finally decided to take a test, I had no clue what I was doing so I didn’t follow the ‘use your first wee of the day’ advice, did the test and left it for over an hour because I was either convinced it wasn’t possible or in denial…unsure which even to this day.
When I returned to the test, there was a line, very very very faint line. I then frantically had to search for a reason this could be, so I finally found a viable reason that it could be an evaporation line from leaving the test wayyy too long. Clearly not pregnant, all was well.
I knew I needed to do another test to confirm this but I couldn’t pluck up the courage, so I left it a few more hours before the suspense was too much. Another test, another faint line. Ok, so maybe I could be pregnant. Nope, Dr. Google says although extremely rare false positives are possible.
The next morning I had Sixth form, so I did the test early in the morning, this line was real. A gingantic, blue line stained the test. Ok. So. Erm. What?
I went to Sixth Form and completely repressed the thought, it was late February…I had my final year exams in 3 months. Oh god. It was such a mess. I messaged Sam and told him I needed to talk to him, if he was free. So he rang, obviously curious. Yet I hadn’t thought this through…how exactly do you explain to someone your pregnant, when you were taking precautions not to be. So I declined the call.
I then sent a message saying ‘I think I’m pregnant’, after this I remember very little, I went to see Sam, we decided although very unplanned, we were going to continue with the pregnancy.
Tuesday 1st March 2017. I booked a Dr’s appointment to confirm the pregnancy, still in denial I had a dodgy batch of tests that were giving false positives. The wait in the reception area took forever, they were running behind and right at that moment I felt I had the most urgent and pressing reason to see a Dr.
I went into the room, the typical ‘so what can I help you with today.’ I explained I thought I was pregnant, the test was done, this time a pink line showed. Somehow my thoughts, emotions and all ability to process drown in the thick, bold pink line on the test.
It was then explained I had ‘options’, although I had always been against abortion and had decided the day previous this pregnancy was something I wanted, for the first time I sat and really thought. What had I got to offer a child? We both lived with parents, I had applied for Uni, both still progressing towards life goals with no stability or life skills. Was it fair? Was I really capable of looking after another being who relied upon me for everything.
Many may question why one day I want my daughter to see this. My reason being I want her to know if she ever finds herself in a similar situation, confusion and doubt are very normal feelings, it doesn’t make you a horrible person and you do have choices that I would never judge whatever choice she made.
I drove back to Sixth Form, sat for a while in my car, then through lunch break, by the end of this I decided everything happens for a reason. I would do anything for this tiny little bundle of cells which has today grown into the most precious, beautiful little lady. Who over pregnancy and her 16 weeks of life I have grown to love in a way only Mum’s will understand, the World is a very insignificant rock in comparison to her through my eyes.
Initially my family were, lets say, not exactly elated, haha. My Mum being a young Mum herself knew the struggle I had ahead. I see a young Mum’s job the same as that of any other Mum but with far more stereotyping, prejudice and less money…so harder in some ways.
The more my family realised, ok, this is happening they become so excited, both my parents came to my 4D scan and were probably on the borderline of re-mortgaging with how much they contributed to buying Emily things. Others were less supportive and helpful but it helps decipher those who deserve to be part of Emily’s life and those who don’t quite meet the requirements.
The logistics after this were that I worked silly hours, juggled Sixth Form, lived off minimal sleep, started the mamoth list of baby buys, left Sixth form a few weeks earlier than study leavd, moved house (on the same day as a English Lit exam), grew up and had a baby.
**Cheers to the Psychology teacher who hinted to other students that I may be pregnant – something I was trying to conceal to reduce stress until exams were over…very much appreciated 👍
Although it kills me to think for that tiny amount of time I thought the unthinkable, I made the right decision for me and it changed my life significantly for the better.
Being a Mum is hard no matter what age. 19, 29, 39, 49…does a number really matter? Biologically speaking, yes. However, I know Mum’s in their 30’s who I genuinely don’t feel are the best of Mum’s. I also know a girl around 20, who has 2 under 2’s and strives (and acheives) to be the best Mum ever.
So next time you even subconsciously judge a young Mum (or any Mum at all), remember those first feelings when you found out you were pregnant, the impending enormity of responsibility, the frightened, emotional bubble you retreated into the first few weeks of your babies life when you needed a supportive, understanding smile…not a judgemental, patronizing look or comment.
So that is the story of how I became a young Mum. I would much prefer to just be ‘a Mum’ but somehow there is a stigma. Gradually I’m overcoming the negativity and turning it into positivity.