24 Weeks Pregnant But Still Wants To Be A Competitive Cheerleader

I have come to the realization that I like to watch TV shows about people who make phenomenally bad decisions in their lives. I find watching the consequences unfold to be endlessly fascinating. Life can be hard and it only takes one bad choice to totally derail a person's life and dreams. We are a fragile species who can be incredibly resilient when we need to be.

I hate the idea of teen pregnancy but I can understand all the forces that make unprotected sex look like a good idea when conception takes place. The biology of immature and horny young boys meets the unrealistic romantic fantasies of young girls. It's not all vampires and werewolves. This is reality - heavily edited and often scripted reality but reality nonetheless.

I hate how much the dreams of these girls get derailed by one night. I want to slap these girls as much as their parents do. The girls have POTENTIAL to be more than a teen mom. I have yet to hear one say that it made their lives easier.

I am watching the newest episode of 16 and Pregnant and was preparing a good rant on all the things that infuriate me about that show when I came across this confession on Tumblr. I reprint it here because it says everything I want to, only better, because it comes from experience.

Let’s get one thing straight here: I love my son; however, I am very aware of the fact that I was too young when I had him. Too young to fully grasp the the situation I was in, too young to understand the choices I had, too young to take my options seriously, and absolutely, without a doubt, too fucking young to be a mother. So when I notice someone getting attacked about their choice to have an abortion or give their child up for adoption, I tend to lose my shit.


Let me start you off with a list of reasons why I sure as shit HATE being a 21 year old mother:

•The father of my child is a dumb ass, but he genuinely loves his son, so I have no right to keep his child from him. The father should be just as involved as the mother. However, it took a very long time to explain to him the importance of ALWAYS placing his son in a car seat when taking him for a ride ANYWHERE, the ongoing issue of hygiene (brushing his teeth every day, making sure he changes his underwear and socks daily, bathing him regularly, etc) to this day is a concept that he can’t seem to grasp, the importance of having discussions with me instead of yelling at me in front of our offspring, he still can’t manage to stop smoking in the house the two days a week that our former embryo is with him, and heaven forbid he actually teach him something that would help him in school.

•I have still not gone to college due to the fact that his father is so lax with rules and attentiveness that I am certain if I left him in his care that he would become extremely unruly or possibly just walk out of the front door, unnoticed, and promptly get lost/stolen/something else horrible.

•I cannot take my son with me if/when I go to school because I will not be able to see him enough to properly raise him since I am poor as fuck and will absolutely be working while attending school.

•I am not one of those little girls who dreamed of being a mommy when she grew up. That thought never crossed my mind. My son was the second baby I had ever held (the first one by choice, as the first one had been forced upon me).

•I am selfish. I think of myself first, and then my sons wants. The things he needs are always a top priority, but honestly, I think of myself first foremost.

•I am not financially stable.

•I am not mentally stable.

•I am literally SO stressed out about being a parent, that I cry about it every fucking day.

•I have fucked up my own life so badly. It is terrifying of thinking about how badly I’ve already screwed his up by deciding to raise him when I was 17. People who say dumb shit like “Nobody could raise him better than his own parents” are sincerely ignorant to the world of adoption. I don’t even understand where that logic comes from.

•My body is disgusting. I loath it entirely. My metabolism has slowed way the fuck down, my tits are about a size smaller and not even close to cute unless I grab a push up bra and pray to the cleavage gods that today my rack can look decent, my stretchmarks do not please me under any circumstances, and my c-section scar scares the hell out of me when I glimpse at my naked body in the bathroom mirror. Not to mention the fact that I have back problems and my period has been insanely messed up ever since I stopped breast feeding.

•I’ve been in love once in my life. One time. And he couldn’t handle the fact that I have a son because, like me,he is nowhere near ready for a child.

•Also, I live in a town that I hate and cannot leave because of my little guys father.