I lost my virginity to John 10 days before my 16th birthday.
I'm ever-so-slightly old school which means that I'm actually relieved that I'm marrying the guy that I "gave my flower" to. However, marrying your "flower taker" doesn't typically happen so, I say got lucky. Or...unlucky depending on how you see it. As a parent, I would begrossed out in absolute shock if I found out that my cubs were sexually active at such a young age. However, I will most definitely NOT be a hypocrite if they repeat the same mistake that I did.
I only knew John for six weeks and we had sex without protection for the first time.
Gawd, I was such a silly little girl! I got my period when I was fourteen so I barely hit puberty when I allowed John to gain access to my....pubic region. He could have been like Telly, from that movie Kids. And that is soooo not cool now that I think about it! To make things worse, John was a huge pervert (like most fifteen-year-old boys) so I felt like I had to be adventurous with my *ahem* intimate endeavors in order to impress him. Sad, isn't it?
So yeah, I hate to break it to you Mom & Pops ('cause I know youstalk me read my blog), but I was having lots of premarital sex with John behind your backs. You just found out sooner than I intended.
Eventually, all of that risk taking caught up with John and I because as it turned out, both of our reproductive organs worked just fine. I found out I was pregnant one week after my Senior prom. In the Taco Bell bathroom at Serramonte of all places! (Give me a break with the location okay?! There aren't too many places that a teenage girl will feel safe enough to take a pregnancy test.)
I was 17 years old -- pregnant -- with graduation and my 18th birthday looming ahead.
I never really wrote about our first cub until now. I've mentioned that pregnancy before, but this is the first time I really wrote about it. Well, on the internet anyway. But let me tell you, seeing those two pink lines gave me the biggest reality check of my teen aged life! We used protection (not consistently), but I suppose we never thought that I'd actually get pregnant. Besides, we had been together for almost 2 years and our birth control methods were essentially the same that entire time. I'll spare you all of the icky details, but I'm guessing we thought we were invincible.
What can I say? We were stupid teenagers.
When the "stork" decided to pay us a visit, I knew that abortion was simply not an option for me. I watched a teen pregnancy/pro-life film in CCD right before I got Confirmed (my Freshman year) and it stuck with me. In the film, the teen mother had the opportunity to talk to her would-be baby's spirit (that spirit somewhat resembled the orb from Ghostwriter by the way). But anyway, the teen girl ended up keeping her baby because she couldn't live the rest of her life knowing that she "played God" by aborting her baby....or something like that.
Either way, I knew that I didn't want to be responsible for taking my baby's life.
So yeah, 17 or not, I was going to keep the baby. Surprisingly enough, John was totally supportive with my decision. He didn't even ask me to have an abortion. After the initial fear subsided, he was even excited to become a father. He told his Mom before I told my own family. Well, actually he conned his little sister (who was about 5 at the time) into spilling the beans. He had her accompany us to my first OB appointment.
She "told" on us when we got home.
Once his Mom knew (and she was very gracious about the "bad news"), we honestly believed that everything was going to be perfect. We both had jobs and I just purchased my first car -- a brand new purple (I thought it was blue when I bought it) 2000 Dodge Neon. Oh, and let's not forget that we thought he had tons of experience with babies since he babysat his siblings from time to time. So, we thought we were totally prepared to be parents. (insert sarcasm here)
Clearly, this is a prime example of teenage stupidity at its finest.
Once we told his Mom, telling my Mom was the final hurdle that we had left. (Or so we thought.) My Dad and I weren't exactly on the best terms back then so I didn't give a sh*t about what he thought. (My bad, Pops.) But oh man, telling my Mother that I was having sex and got pregnant?! Bad news.
I'm ever-so-slightly old school which means that I'm actually relieved that I'm marrying the guy that I "gave my flower" to. However, marrying your "flower taker" doesn't typically happen so, I say got lucky. Or...unlucky depending on how you see it. As a parent, I would be
I only knew John for six weeks and we had sex without protection for the first time.
Gawd, I was such a silly little girl! I got my period when I was fourteen so I barely hit puberty when I allowed John to gain access to my....pubic region. He could have been like Telly, from that movie Kids. And that is soooo not cool now that I think about it! To make things worse, John was a huge pervert (like most fifteen-year-old boys) so I felt like I had to be adventurous with my *ahem* intimate endeavors in order to impress him. Sad, isn't it?
So yeah, I hate to break it to you Mom & Pops ('cause I know you
Eventually, all of that risk taking caught up with John and I because as it turned out, both of our reproductive organs worked just fine. I found out I was pregnant one week after my Senior prom. In the Taco Bell bathroom at Serramonte of all places! (Give me a break with the location okay?! There aren't too many places that a teenage girl will feel safe enough to take a pregnancy test.)
I was 17 years old -- pregnant -- with graduation and my 18th birthday looming ahead.
I never really wrote about our first cub until now. I've mentioned that pregnancy before, but this is the first time I really wrote about it. Well, on the internet anyway. But let me tell you, seeing those two pink lines gave me the biggest reality check of my teen aged life! We used protection (not consistently), but I suppose we never thought that I'd actually get pregnant. Besides, we had been together for almost 2 years and our birth control methods were essentially the same that entire time. I'll spare you all of the icky details, but I'm guessing we thought we were invincible.
What can I say? We were stupid teenagers.
When the "stork" decided to pay us a visit, I knew that abortion was simply not an option for me. I watched a teen pregnancy/pro-life film in CCD right before I got Confirmed (my Freshman year) and it stuck with me. In the film, the teen mother had the opportunity to talk to her would-be baby's spirit (that spirit somewhat resembled the orb from Ghostwriter by the way). But anyway, the teen girl ended up keeping her baby because she couldn't live the rest of her life knowing that she "played God" by aborting her baby....or something like that.
Either way, I knew that I didn't want to be responsible for taking my baby's life.
So yeah, 17 or not, I was going to keep the baby. Surprisingly enough, John was totally supportive with my decision. He didn't even ask me to have an abortion. After the initial fear subsided, he was even excited to become a father. He told his Mom before I told my own family. Well, actually he conned his little sister (who was about 5 at the time) into spilling the beans. He had her accompany us to my first OB appointment.
She "told" on us when we got home.
Once his Mom knew (and she was very gracious about the "bad news"), we honestly believed that everything was going to be perfect. We both had jobs and I just purchased my first car -- a brand new purple (I thought it was blue when I bought it) 2000 Dodge Neon. Oh, and let's not forget that we thought he had tons of experience with babies since he babysat his siblings from time to time. So, we thought we were totally prepared to be parents. (insert sarcasm here)
Clearly, this is a prime example of teenage stupidity at its finest.
Once we told his Mom, telling my Mom was the final hurdle that we had left. (Or so we thought.) My Dad and I weren't exactly on the best terms back then so I didn't give a sh*t about what he thought. (My bad, Pops.) But oh man, telling my Mother that I was having sex and got pregnant?! Bad news.
She always told me that I should save my "flower" for when I got married. ;-)
I remember that day vividly. I called my Mom at work to tell her that John and I needed to talk to her when she got home. She insisted that I tell her right then and there --over the phone. My Mom grew increasingly upset as I insisted to her that we would speak to her when she got home. I was going to stick to my guns until she angrily blurted out...
"You're not pregnant are you?!"
Well, I couldn't say no, right? So, I stayed quiet and she then proceeded to yell at me. And, she told me that I should have an abortion because I was too young to become a mother! All hell broke loose when she came home. She again insisted that I get rid of the baby.
Ah, the repercussions of having sex irresponsibly!
Although I could totally agree with her logic at the time, I stood my ground (despite breaking my mother's heart and damaging my reputation) and told her that I was going to keep the baby. To put it lightly, she was pissed. My mother and I were at odds for WEEKS. She even took my car away as punishment. (And rightfully so, I suppose.)
Meanwhile, stress was taking its toll on me and I wasn't eating right because my morning sickness was hitting me hard.
That horrendous morning sickness cost me my high school graduation. I was 5 minutes late to the last meeting for my Work Experience class (an elective) because I had to pull over to vomit. Well, because that class only allowed 3 absences or tardies for the entire semester, I ended up getting an automatic fail. There were no exceptions (even medical ones weren't allowed) because I signed a contract in order to take that class.
Even though I had a note from my OBGYN, several teachers petitioning for my graduation, and even going high as talking to the school board, the lack of support from the adult members of my family (my parents) meant that I didn't have enough clout to sway anyone into bending the rule. It was basically politics that kept me from graduating on time. My counselor later told me that the Work Experience teacher was bitter because she couldn't have children of her own. Whether I liked it or not, I was going to have to go to one month of "Senior Summer School" to make up my lost elective credits. To add more insult to injury, I was still forced to participate in graduation rehearsal even though I wasn't going to be allowed to walk across stage.
My high school diploma has a July date on it.
Even though I went through the double whammy of explaining to my family that I was pregnant AND wasn't going to graduate on stage, I was still happy. The baby was doing okay, my morning sickness was starting to subside, and I even had a due date -- January 14, 2001. We even had a name picked out: Dylan Cole. We had a very strong feeling that our cub was going to be a boy.
That horrendous morning sickness cost me my high school graduation. I was 5 minutes late to the last meeting for my Work Experience class (an elective) because I had to pull over to vomit. Well, because that class only allowed 3 absences or tardies for the entire semester, I ended up getting an automatic fail. There were no exceptions (even medical ones weren't allowed) because I signed a contract in order to take that class.
Even though I had a note from my OBGYN, several teachers petitioning for my graduation, and even going high as talking to the school board, the lack of support from the adult members of my family (my parents) meant that I didn't have enough clout to sway anyone into bending the rule. It was basically politics that kept me from graduating on time. My counselor later told me that the Work Experience teacher was bitter because she couldn't have children of her own. Whether I liked it or not, I was going to have to go to one month of "Senior Summer School" to make up my lost elective credits. To add more insult to injury, I was still forced to participate in graduation rehearsal even though I wasn't going to be allowed to walk across stage.
My high school diploma has a July date on it.
Even though I went through the double whammy of explaining to my family that I was pregnant AND wasn't going to graduate on stage, I was still happy. The baby was doing okay, my morning sickness was starting to subside, and I even had a due date -- January 14, 2001. We even had a name picked out: Dylan Cole. We had a very strong feeling that our cub was going to be a boy.
I lost the baby right before I officially reached my 12 week mark. It was June 2nd. (Of note: Ethan was born at 6:02. I think it was a sign.)
I had the most horrible cramps the night before I miscarried. I was over at John's house pretty late and I distinctly remember him rubbing my belly to make me feel better. I was told that cramping was normal so I didn't think anything of it. I went home that night and fell asleep in pain. There was blood everywhere when I woke up early that morning. My pain was even worse and I started crying like a lunatic when I realized what was happening.
That moment was so fucked up. I'll never forget it.
John and I spent hours in the Emergency Room waiting for the OB to tell me if the baby was alive. They gave me an IV to stop the contractions/pain and explained to me that there was no stopping a miscarriage once it starts. They performed an ultrasound and confirmed that the baby was gone.
Our first cub would have been 9 years old by now.
I was an emotional wreck after I lost the baby. I went through so much heartache in such a short amount of time that it really messed me up. Now, I wasn't graduating on time and I had no baby to look forward to. So, I got myself in all that trouble for nothing. It took several months for me to get over everything.
It was awful.
I was terrified of having another miscarriage when I got pregnant with Kevin 2 years later. The pain of losing my first baby made me extra cautious for all of my subsequent pregnancies. As time progressed and our family grew, I'm actually ashamed to admit that I somewhat forgot all about the heartache of losing that first cub. Then when Ethan passed away I "remembered" that he wasn't alone in Heaven after all. He had his big brother up there with him.
So really, I have TWO cubs waiting for me in the sky.
I had the most horrible cramps the night before I miscarried. I was over at John's house pretty late and I distinctly remember him rubbing my belly to make me feel better. I was told that cramping was normal so I didn't think anything of it. I went home that night and fell asleep in pain. There was blood everywhere when I woke up early that morning. My pain was even worse and I started crying like a lunatic when I realized what was happening.
That moment was so fucked up. I'll never forget it.
John and I spent hours in the Emergency Room waiting for the OB to tell me if the baby was alive. They gave me an IV to stop the contractions/pain and explained to me that there was no stopping a miscarriage once it starts. They performed an ultrasound and confirmed that the baby was gone.
Our first cub would have been 9 years old by now.
I was an emotional wreck after I lost the baby. I went through so much heartache in such a short amount of time that it really messed me up. Now, I wasn't graduating on time and I had no baby to look forward to. So, I got myself in all that trouble for nothing. It took several months for me to get over everything.
It was awful.
I was terrified of having another miscarriage when I got pregnant with Kevin 2 years later. The pain of losing my first baby made me extra cautious for all of my subsequent pregnancies. As time progressed and our family grew, I'm actually ashamed to admit that I somewhat forgot all about the heartache of losing that first cub. Then when Ethan passed away I "remembered" that he wasn't alone in Heaven after all. He had his big brother up there with him.
So really, I have TWO cubs waiting for me in the sky.
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