I was 17 years old when I found out I was pregnant with my son.  I was at my sister's house when I asked her to go with me to buy a pregnancy test.  She asked you are pregnant? I said I don't know but I have a feeling.  So we went to the nearest grocery story and bought a test.  We came home and I took the test.  I remember sitting in her living room, staring at my mickey mouse watch just wishing the time would fly by.  As soon as the 5 minutes passed I walked into the bathroom and looked at the test. I started to cry.  The last time I cried that hard was when my Gandy passed away 3 years before.  I knew my life would never be the same.  How was I going to tell my parents?  My boyfriend?  His family?  Our friends?  I knew my high school career was over.  I went to a private Lutheran high school and they would never let me return being pregnant. 

My sister told me to get in touch with my boyfriend first.  Well we had been in a fight so he was already not taking my calls.  My sister finally called over to his house and said we need to come over and talk.  He said okay but when we showed up he wasn't there.  Apparently he had already told his mom what he thought I need to tell him so she told me to give him some space.  As I climbed back in my car I thought why does he get space?  So then my sister tells me we have to tell mom and dad.  Oh God how was I going to do that?  I have let them down.  I begged her to let me stay with her and not go home. She ended up calling my mom and telling her.  I don't know my mom's true response because it wasn't me on the other end.  My mom agreed to let me stay at my sister's for a couple of days.  She would tell my dad.  My dad didn't talk to me for 3 months.

Over the next few days my mom and my boyfriend's mom kept telling me I have options...adoption / abortion.  This wasn't the end of the world.  I wouldn't listen to them.  Abortion was never an option.  I could have never looked myself in the face.  Adoption wasn't either.  I was adopted and could never understand how a mother could do that.  I now realize that it took a true mother to make that decision.  I had no business having a baby at 17 - 18 years old. 

I chose to have him and 9 months after he was born I chose to get married to his dad.  It was all down hill from there.  We were way too young to be parents...to be married.  After 7 years of fighting, alcohol, jail, beatings, etc we divorced.  I finally thought I would have some peace.  I dated a little after we divorced a couple of good guys and a couple of bad ones until I found D.  I have made many bad choices and no matter how many times I have apologized or tried to make it right it never seems to work.

My son is so mad a me over those choices I made and my parents have never let me be a parent to him.  I am now 33 years old and I have more control over raising my 4 year old daughter than I do have over him.  If he doesn't like the choices I make, he goes over my head to my parents and my sister.  It kills me.  On top of the attitude of a typical teenager I have two parents and one sister that feed into him.  He is angry and I have let him see too much they say.  I need to be easier on him. Seriously?  Things happen in life and you can't use that stuff as a crutch.  I tried and why do I get all the blame? He has a father. A father who chooses to live in a beer can versus really helping.  Anytime I try to go to him everything is my fault.  The only person I have in my corner is D.  He sees the whole picture and backs me on raising him.