So lets get this cleared up before I begin:
- Yes I’m an 18-year old mom.
- Yes, the “baby daddy” is present.
- No, I’m not a drop out.
- No, I do not depend on government assistance or looking for handouts.
- No, my life is not over.
Ok now that we have that established, let’s continue. Everyone has their own “ideal” age that someone should have a kid and the order in which a kid should come: graduation, college, career, marriage, baby, so on, and so on. One thing about me is I pick my battles but speak my mind when necessary. Society’s utopian sequence is fancy and all, but this thing that we’re living is called life and life throws some curveballs whether we’re ready or not. Life is not perfect. In my case, I became pregnant at 16 and had just started my junior year of high school working a part time job at Cici’s Pizza (literally making a little over $300 a check by the way). I had never been so terrified in my life, but I made my bed so I had to lay in it so it was time to make some responsible moves. It was hard keeping my secret on hush. I was about two months pregnant when I made the decision of leaving my original high school and attending a smaller high school in my district that offered a credit program that allowed me to obtain my credits for 11th and 12th grade in six months. Let me say that was probably the biggest challenge of my life EVER. A challenge I was not prepared for. Having to get up at the crack of dawn to catch my bus, sitting in class, self-teaching myself new concepts (classes were computer-based), and having a boat load of homework by the end of the day all while dealing with morning sickness, back aches, foot aches, and an extreme appetite. Mind you, I had six months to complete two grade levels if I wanted to graduate a year before my class. At 37 weeks pregnant, I graduated with my certificate of completion and was awarded a scholarship, 2 weeks postpartum I went to prom, and 1 month postpartum I walked the stage earning my high school diploma.
No one would expect that from the average teen mom from what they see and hear right? I find it funny when I mention to people “my daughter” or “my baby” and their whole persona towards me changes especially because I look so young. I’ve had to grow to the point where I didn’t dwell on that one interaction for the rest of that day even though it did bother me and sometimes even hurt. At one point, I realized that who freakin’ cares what people think?! This is my life and I’m the one writing the story.
My daughter is the best thing that has happened to me. Anyone who knows her knows that she is literally a ball of sunshine and that’s why I chose sunflowers to symbolize her. I use to get offended when people would make smart comments about me being “a baby with a baby” but I don’t anymore. I look at it like this, I have my whole life ahead of me and I’m still learning myself. I fall. I fail sometimes. I get back up. I make up for it. I just so happen to be raising up a young queen during the process. With the awesome support system that her father and I have, things are much easier and the sky remains the limit.