When I was pregnant with my first baby at sixteen, I'm not going to lie, it was hard. I knew people were talking about me and judging, but that didn't really bother me. What bothered me was I wanted my baby to be happy, and I wanted to be strong for her. You can read my story about being sixteen and pregnant here. The, further along, I was getting through my pregnancy, I faced the facts that the baby's Dad was just going to refuse anything to do with our baby. My Dad was my rock from the moment he found out I was pregnant. He was the one who booked the doctors appointment, picked me up from my work placement and took me there. Yes, he told me he was disappointed. I don't blame him either. I was sixteen years old, I had four months left of college and had only finished secondary school a few months back. I had my whole life ahead of me. I will never forget that conversation after being in the doctors. He told me he would be there for me whatever I decide and he was. He was by my side through my whole pregnancy.
I went to a job when I was pregnant but I fainted within a couple of hours, and so I was unable to return. It was only a summer job, but it was something. I had passed my childcare course in college when I was three months pregnant. My Dad came with me to the first and second scan because the baby's Dad didn't want to. After I got my second scan and found out the baby was a girl, my Dad took me to Conwy which is a lovely place to visit. We went to a little welsh shop, and my Dad bought the baby her first ever babygro, which I still have. All three have worn it now.
As I had turned seventeen in my pregnancy, I was not entitled to any money. Even though child tax credits stopped going to my Dad after I finished my college course too, they still said I was entitled to nothing. My Dad, bless him, bought everything for the baby. I was lucky that I was given a pram by my uncle and a lot of baby clothes which was lovely and saved us a lot of money. I felt awful that I wasn't even able to provide for my baby girl. The Jobcentre told me I could apply for income support after I had the baby, which I did. The only thing I bought her for her first Christmas was a Winnie the Pooh teddy. I remember feeling so guilty but also lucky that I had such a beautiful little girl. I went to Careers Wales every single week for five months to find a job. They were fantastic, and in the end, I got a job as a Nursery Assistant. I was only on income support for 4-5 months but I am glad I found a job in the end, and I must admit I was really proud of myself. You can read more about my life as a single mum at seventeen years old, here.
Back at the reason to why I chose my Dad to be my labour partner, instead of my Mother. The reason I wrote all of the above was to show how much my Dad did for me through my pregnancy. My Dad has brought my brother and I up since we were born and then had custody of us, brought us up as a single Dad since I was around 4-5 years old. I've never had a great mother and daughter relationship with my Dad before, and now, at 24 years old, I've come to terms that it will never happen. Ever. Maybe when she is really old and unable to do things herself, I'll give in and take care of her because that's just the kind of person I am. But it's not like I'm returning any favour because she didn't take care of my brother and me when we were children and she also never helped me through motherhood either.
When I was in college and found out I was pregnant, of course, I told the baby's Dad. A close friend of mine at the time, who hung around with the baby's Dad and a few other lads, had phoned my Mother and told her I was pregnant and how I was selfish that I had decided to keep the baby and not abort. This was the first day back at college when I found out I was pregnant. Emotions were everywhere, and I had planned to tell my Mother that evening. My Dad took me there that evening, so I could tell her that I was pregnant. She was over the moon. Really happy. Other than that, she did nothing for me through my pregnancy. She didn't help me. I had a good gift off her after Mia was born, she did a hamper of things I needed for a baby but otherwise, nothing. When I was around 38 weeks pregnant, she phoned me up and asked me something along the lines of who was going to be my labour partner, she couldn't understand why I said it was my Dad. I kept telling her that it's my Dad that has never let me down and always been there for me, no matter what. I was called all sorts of names. I think the worst one was being called a bitch by my own Mother.
She said I had changed through my pregnancy. If only she knew what I had been through and how I felt in myself. But she never took the chance to ask me or keep in contact with me properly. It was always me. Still to this day. She didn't know I had a liver disorder (Obstetric Cholestasis) when I was pregnant. She might have known I had something, but she didn't bother to care and help me or even listen to know what it was exactly. It was my Dad who came with me to every single hospital appointment. She's never been there for me. False promises. Jealousy is a bitch, I guess. If I ever had to choose a labour partner again, between my Dad and Mother, it would always be my Dad. Always.
When I got induced and finally went into labour I felt comfortable and safe because I knew my Dad was there. He has always supported me with everything. Still does. I thank him so much for everything he has done.
lovely post!
ReplyDelete