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I got pregnant at 17, gave birth to a baby girl at 18...

October 21, 2016

“I got pregnant at 17, gave birth to a baby girl at 18 in September 2015. When she was about 5 months old I learned that I was about 4-5 weeks pregnant. I didn't want to do it again. Not this soon. We couldn't afford another baby not so soon after this one. I had PPD and anxiety.

 

We were working my way towards a better life for ourselves and infant daughter. I didn't want to ruin any chance my daughter had at a good life by throwing another baby in the mix too. She was my priority and I researched my best options on how to deal with my pregnancy. I considered adoption, but knew I wouldn't be able to deal with giving my baby away, or having my daughter see photos of me pregnant while she was still a baby and ask questions.

 

I found a nice clinic a few towns over, not a far drive. Got booked for a few days later. My mother provided me with the money needed while the rest went onto my OHOP because we're Canadian. My mother-in-law drove me and watched my daughter while I went alone to the clinic.

 

It was quiet. So many other girls there but I didn't look up. I remained texting my boyfriend at the time for support. I talked to the counsellor who was funny, I needed that in a situation like this, she was so kind to me. And gave me three months on birth control for free, which we originally couldn't afford; hence me being pregnant.

 

When you finally got to the room, they have you take your underwear off and lay on the table. I can't remember if they gave me pills or a shot to numb my body. But I think it was both. It made me so loopy. The nurse beside me holding my hand asked me questions throughout it all. Asked me about my daughter, my dog, and my boyfriend. When it got painful she placed her hand on my tummy and looked into my eyes, telling me it would be over soon and everything would be okay. She got me through it.

 

Once done they allowed me to lay down for a few moments while they help me put my underwear on with a pad included and cleaned up so I wouldn't see anything on my walk to the recovery room. Two ladies helped me walk to the chair where they gave me a warm blanket, water and arrowroot cookies. They allowed us to stay as long as needed, they also wanted to make sure we weren't bleeding tremendously. After about half an hour I felt comfortable enough to leave. I gave the nurse who watched over us in recovery a huge hug.

 

 

I am overly grateful that I love in a country that provides care to those who need it. Grateful for the nurses who got me through a day I didn't want to go through. Grateful for the support I had. I miss my baby, everyday. I wonder if it would've been a girl or a boy but I know I made the right decision. I hope their soul made its way to a body and has a way better life than it would've with me.”  —Anonymous

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