Age – 18
Number of pregnancies – 1
I’ve been on this site countless times, reading other women’s stories because I am trying to cope with how much my body is changing, and have been debating for months now on whether to post my story or not. Well, it’s a bit long, but here goes!
I was 17 and a senior in high school when I found out I was pregnant, and had only been sexually active for less than two months. THAT’S IT. I’ve always been the good girl in my class and people have disliked me for it, because for some reason to them it was disgraceful that I didn’t do drugs, drink, party, or have sex. I’d never even had a boyfriend before the man who got me pregnant. My boyfriend and I were very much in love, and knew we would be together for a long time because we had endured a long-distance relationship for the longest time, but nevertheless, I am having the most difficult time dealing with him during this pregnancy.
I am currently almost 38 weeks pregnant with a baby boy that we are giving up for adoption to a wonderful couple that has tried to have a child for over ten years. This wasn’t my original plan, however. A week after my mom found out I was pregnant she drove me two hours away to have an abortion. I knew that there was no possible way I could parent this child or deal with the emotional aftermath of giving them up for adoption, so for me abortion was the best decision. At the clinic, however, they told me I was 15 weeks along and to have an abortion would be a two-day procedure. Obviously, we’d have to set up another appointment and come back later, much to my mother’s disappointment. She was pretty enraged by the whole situation.
After coming back home and talking it over with my boyfriend, he told me that he wanted to go through with an adoption. “Great!” I thought. Because I would be staying pregnant, all of my plans for the next year would be put on hold. A selfish thought, I know. I also thought that my belly would grow, I’d give birth, and then the whole ordeal would be over with.
I was very wrong.
Even though I haven’t eaten nearly enough to gain so much weight, it’s in my genetics to gain incredible amounts of weight during pregnancy. Pre-pregnancy I was a tiny, cute girl weighing 125 and standing at 5’ 7”, now I weigh 217 and I haven’t even given birth yet. My in-between 34 B- C boobs have gone to a 40 DD, I have acne all over my face, my back, and my chest when I didn’t have acne at all before, I have a disgusting amount of new moles and freckles EVERYWHERE, and I have deep, purple stretch marks all over my boobs, stomach, sides, butt, the tops and backs of my thighs as well as on my inner thighs, and behind my knees and on my calves. I don’t even recognize myself in the mirror anymore. I’m constantly in pain. Some days I can’t even get out of bed because I will be sobbing from the pain my body is in. My feet and face swell constantly to where they don’t look human anymore.
And on top of the physical changes I have to deal with, I have to deal with this emotional roller coaster of giving my baby up for adoption. Just after typing that sentence I began to cry! I find myself crying constantly now, and I don’t have support from ANYONE. I haven’t left my house (except to dr appts) in over five months because I am so ashamed of myself; my body and my decision. I spend every day in my room with only the company of my kitten, Sophie. In a day I talk to her more than I will talk to another human being in two weeks. I still live at home, and my family constantly makes remarks about my weight or the stretch marks or the acne, it’s just always something. They make fun of me. They criticize me for my choice. They talk about me when they don’t think I can hear them. And to top it all off, my boyfriend is, to put blatantly, being a butt. He is so rude to me, and even went as far as to say that he wished this wasn’t happening. HELLO! You’re the one that decided this! He tells me that my stretch marks “better be gone within a few months” and that he doesn’t even want to be in the delivery room with me when I’m in labor. I feel like I am dealing with this pregnancy all by myself, and to tell the truth, I am. No one ever offers to help me do anything. I almost 10 months pregnant and I’m still cleaning an entire house in which six people and three cats live in by myself.
I feel the kicks and movements of my baby all by myself, because there is no one to share this joy with. I wanted an abortion because I didn’t want me and my baby to deal with this lifelong choice and the effects it will have on us. I already am extremely depressed, and I know that postpartum it will only be multiplied. I still haven’t decided if I want to meet my baby after he is born, because frankly I don’t know if I can handle it.
I just turned 18; my body has been destroyed and after the grueling hours of labor I won’t even be holding the beautiful baby boy I created and nurtured for nine months. So it almost feels like I’ve done all of this for nothing.
I would have posted a picture of my entire body, but I don’t have anyone willing to take one for me so these will have to do.
Pic #1 is pre-pregnancy. (Excuse the dazed look, I was listening to someone jabbering)
Pic #2 is of my swollen feet
Pic #3 is of the stretch marks on my left inner-thigh
Pic #4 is of my side view