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I remember the day I found out I was pregnant, fifteen years old, fresh out of ninth grade. I didn't know the first thing about a baby or raising a baby. Hell, I was a baby myself.
Being abandoned by my mother hurts, I remember when she found the pregnancy test in my bathroom, laying face up. I was out there fifteen and pregnant, on my own.
No other family I could run to for help, I was living from house to house with different people I didn't even know.
But I knew I had to women up for the sake of the human I was carrying inside me but, how was I going to do that? I was young and didn't know anything about working or providing.
Who was gonna hire a pregnant teen?
Oh and my baby father? he was my first, the man I gave my body to for the very first time. Something that meant that most to me, I gave him my body and right then and there I knew I loved him, well at least I thought. I was too afraid and insecure to share my body with anyone but him? It was different.
Back then I was young, dumb and afraid. I didn't even tell him I was pregnant, too afraid, too afraid that he was going to leave me and my unborn for dead.
I remember the day I got the call that he was shot to death in his car, I was six months fucking pregnant for god sakes.
The sad thing was he didn't even know I was pregnant. I was too afraid to tell him. Then their I was, screaming and kicking everywhere. My child couldn't bond, see touch or anything with his or her father.
I knew how it was growing up without a father, I never knew my father, never heard of him, never seen a picture of him or anything. It hurts.
Not only was he my child's father but he was my first love, someone I grew up in the neighborhood with. I was depressed, anxious, distressed for months while carrying our baby. I had no one to vent to or no shoulder to lean on.
I was fifteen going through more shit then people half my age, I was strong though, definitely a solider.
Fast forward, my babygirl was one and a half, she was her father's twin, she reminded me so much of him. I was more then in love with her, I never knew what love at first sight was until I seen her open her beautiful eyes.
I was in a happy place.
A very old friend of my grandmother's who passed away, took me and my baby in. I was more then thankful for her, she treated me and my baby as her own. For the first time in forever, I was happy then.
I still had my days thinking about my baby father, of course. Some of his family tried to get in touch with me but I didn't want any parts with them. Why? because the whole family was fake as fuck and didn't like me from the jump of our relationship.
I didn't need anyone feeling sorry for me, I hated it. When I was at my lowest no one was there for me so save the pity.
I remember the day my baby got taken away from me, I don't think I ever experienced heart broken until then. I cried and cried, my baby was the only one I had, the only one who I knew for sure gonna forever love me but she was taken away from me.
My baby fathers mother, decided to go to social service and tell them that she wasn't in a stable environment.
They took my baby away from me...
There was no point in me living if I couldn't have my baby, she gave me life. I made her, she came from me and she was token away from me. I remember the day, I almost committee suicide.
I took a half of bottle of pills, trying to end all my pain and deep wounds that couldn't be heal. I laid up in a hospital bed for months in a coma, once I got out the coma. I couldn't move or talk, I didn't want to. I didn't have a reason to, I needed my baby.
