Being pregnant as a teenager is like being hit with a ton of bricks. Despite how this conception occurred, I decided that I would follow through with the pregnancy. Whether I would parent the child myself was a different subject. I argued daily with myself and my parents about the decision. I listed the pros and the cons, but with the passing of each month, the decision became more and more difficult.
Summer faded, and soon it was time for school to start back up. Senior year was suppose to be full of parties, friends, and fun. I started senior year irrevocably pregnant. I quickly found out who my true friends were as news of my unfortunate situation spread across the campus. The lunch table I had sat at the previous year had been filled beyond capacity with friends. During senior year, however, it was a sparse skeleton crew of loyalists. It was disheartening to learn, when put to the test, how fickle many of my friends turned out to be. Those that did remain strong provided me with a valuable backbone of support.
To parent or not to parent: that was the question. I had no support from home, I was young and inexperienced, and I had no money. With these things in mind, you would think the answer would have been simple, but it wasn’t. With each day I felt more and more attached to the baby growing inside of me.
While sitting in my advanced biology class, at the start of senior year, I noticed that the guy I had admired from a far for several years was sitting right in front of me. He noticed my shy smile and turned around in his seat to ask me what was new. I quickly flipped through my biology book and flashed him a picture of a pregnant woman. His expression was priceless. At that moment all the blood seemed to drain from his face as his eyes filled with shock. He quickly turned to his friend who was seated next to him and audibly whispered, “She’s pregnant!”
To my surprise, my attempt at scaring him away had failed. On the way out of class that day, he invited me to attend a church function where he was speaking. I agreed to go with him out of curiosity. His response to my situation was shocking. At first he was stunned, but he quickly seemed to set it aside and look at me, not my pregnancy.
That weekend he picked me up and drove me to a church that seemed to be overflowing with excited teenagers and young adults. He led me to a seat near the front just as the service was about to begin. I was full of anxiety. I had always grown up in church, but somehow being pregnant made me feel out of place. My date quickly went on stage and said, “Hi everyone, my name is David. I want to tell you about my experience at Chrysalis….” David then proceeded to talk about an amazing experience he had over the summer getting closer to God and in the process learning to love himself.
As David stood on that stage sharing his story, he smiled at me. His eyes were so full of passion and hope. I wanted that. I wanted to know what it was like to be loved. I wanted to stop hurting. One by one, more and more teenagers went on stage to share their experiences from this retreat. It was a service full of laughter and tears.
By the end of the night I felt emotionally drained. As David drove me home that evening, we talked about all of the different testimonies. He told me another retreat was coming up in the next month, and that if I was interested in going, he would sponsor me. I quickly agreed. I was hungry for what these people had spoken of.
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