At seventeen I had already spent over a year in a state group home. My father had passed away a few months before, and my mother was soon to be released from jail. During this trying time I found myself pregnant. The father of the child made it very clear that he wouldn’t be around if I kept the child, but even still I thought maybe I could do it alone. I kept it a secret from my foster parent for about a month. Until one morning very bluntly she asked me, are you pregnant? And I just broke down. I told her, and to my surprise she was very supportive. Unfortunately she would be the only one. After she told my caseworker. My case worker came the next day if I said she was mad that would of been an understatement. She explained to me how hard my life would be if I kept this child. All my hard work would of been for nothing, and I’d later regret keeping this child. Later she would request the funds of my trust to be used for a procedure I never wanted to begin with. And the process began. I went to a few appointments to this clinic in palm beach with the father of the child and my case worker. Both would beat me down telling me how this was for the best, and that it would have a negative impact on us all. But later I’d understand it was never for my best interest, it was for theirs. I did go though with it. It’s been hard on me ever since. The years following I suffered from depression. A few times I found myself committed into metal health facilities, but even with the help I’ve never been able to shake that my first child perhaps the only daughter I would of had I never gave a chance. Now I have two beautiful sons. I live for them. Having them has showed me how capable I could have been. Through them I try to make it up. I do my all to give them the very best at life. I try to give them everything I never had the chance to give their sibling. I believe we all have a choice. That choice should be ours.
I was 17