My Teenage Dream Ended

by Farrah Abraham

  “So, the test came back saying you’re pregnant.”

  I went from cheerful and happy to hysterical and crying in one second flat. I was in a total panic and wanted someone to blame.

  “If I’m pregnant, then it’s your fault! I got my birth control here, so if it didn’t work it’s your fault I’m pregnant!”

  The nurse tried to soothe me. “Honey, you need to calm down. Let’s talk and figure this out. Have you been taking your birth control daily around the same time?”

  “Yes, I make sure I do.” I took my birth control pills religiously.

  “Well, do you take any medications?”

  I thought for a minute. “No I don’t, but I did have to take a prescription antibiotic for my tonsils a while ago. My doctor thought I might be coming down with an infection.”

  “Well, based on the date of your last period, you could be as many as six weeks pregnant. Did you take the antibiotic four to six weeks ago?”

  “Yes.”

  I felt like I couldn’t sit in this room a second longer. I couldn’t remember anyone explaining to me that medications could make my birth control pill ineffective.

  The nurse looked at me sympathetically. She explained that it wasn’t too late to terminate the pregnancy if that was what I wanted. I could either have a surgical abortion at a health center, or I could choose a nonsurgical method, called a medication abortion, which is an abortion induced with medications.

  I asked her about the medication abortion and she explained, “There are two steps; first a medication is given in pill form at a health center, followed by a second self-administered medication taken at home. The first medication blocks the hormone progesterone, which causes the lining of the uterus to break down and prevents the pregnancy from continuing, and the second medication causes cramping and bleeding which expels the pregnancy.”

  She said that if I wanted to end the pregnancy, I could take this medication but that, since I was under eighteen, a parent would have to come in first and sign a form. This is not the case in all states, but in Iowa the law required the clinic to notify a parent. She told me to calm down and to go home and talk to my parents.

  “I’ll give you some time to yourself and you can come out when you’re ready.”

  “Thank you,” I said quietly.

  I was sad, but I knew what I had to do now that I had found out for sure I was pregnant. I needed to call Derek. I got out my phone and dialed his number, but his phone rang and rang and then went to voicemail. I hung up. It was around 11 AM. He was usually up by now.

  I was fed up and, looking back, probably in shock. It had been a week since our fight at the pool and Derek had not called me or returned my calls. I had tried to call him randomly, when I was bored tanning, but he never picked up. I felt like he had been purposely avoiding my calls and I hadn’t done anything to deserve him treating me like that. I was so angry. I thought, If he can’t be bothered to pick up his phone for me when I need him the most, then I don’t want him in my life.

  I got up and walked down the hall back to the waiting room.

  “Come on, let’s go,” I said to Sadie.

  We got in the car and she asked, “What happened?”

  “I’m pregnant.” I started to cry again. “And now I have to tell my parents. I tried to call Derek, but he didn’t pick up.”

  Sadie shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Farrah.”

  “The nurse told me I can take a medication that will end the pregnancy, but my mom has to come in and sign a form first.”

  “Do you think your mom will sign?”

  “I’m sure she will when I explain everything to her. Will you come in with me while I tell my mom?”

  “Yeah, no problem.”

  We left Planned Parenthood and drove to my house. I was so nervous I was shaking. Since Derek wasn’t there for me, I really needed to know that my parents would be supportive.

  All the way home, I couldn’t help thinking of the derogatory comments my parents had made about some of the teenage girls we knew who had gotten pregnant. I remembered my mom saying things like, “I would kick that girl out of the house if she was my daughter.” I thought, If I just tell them the truth, they should understand and at least let me still live with them.

  TIME TO FACE THE MUSIC

  When Sadie and I arrived at my house, my dad noticed right away that something was really wrong with me. The first thing he said when we walked in the door was, “Are you okay?”

  I couldn’t face my dad yet, so I muttered “Yeah,” and kept walking. I wanted to talk to my mom first. I thought my mom would be more understanding and more helpful than my dad. Turns out I was wrong about that. My mom was working at home that day, so I walked into her office with Sadie following behind me. I was relieved I had a friend with me, but I knew this was going to be really uncomfortable for her. This wasn’t her problem. She didn’t even know my parents, but since Derek wasn’t with me I really needed a friend by my side to give me moral support. I was still struggling myself with the reality that I was pregnant and I had no idea how my parents were going to react.

  I couldn’t stand keeping the news from my parents a moment longer. This was huge—it was life changing. So I took a deep breath and plunged in.

  “Mom, we need to talk.”

  She was on a conference call, so she told me to sit and wait. I sat down. My mom was always busy working and I was used to waiting. But this was different. Every second that went by I felt a little more terrified to tell her that I was pregnant. I couldn’t look at Sadie because my anxiety was growing and I knew the awkwardness of the situation must have been intense for her.

  My mom finally finished her call and asked, “What’s going on?”

  “I have to tell you something. But just listen first and then we can talk, okay?”

  I didn’t want my mom to get upset and interrupt. I was already so emotional, I didn’t know if I could handle hearing anything negative. I just wanted her to agree to let me end the pregnancy so everything would go back to normal.

  My mom stayed silent. I took a deep breath and continued, “Mom, I just got back from Planned Parenthood. I took a pregnancy test and I’m pregnant. The nurse there said I can take a medication that would end the pregnancy. But you have to sign a notification form first since I’m not eighteen yet.”

  My mom was silent. She looked like she wanted to cry. She turned away and looked at her computer screen for a moment. Then she said, “God tells us to not kill any living being, and what do you think you’re doing, Farrah? That medication works by cutting off nutrition and starving the egg.”

  “No mom, it’s not like that. It’s not even living yet. It’s not a baby yet!”

  My mom turned away from me. “No, Farrah. I’m not going to sign for something that kills a living being.”

  I was not ready to hear that being pregnant meant there was a living baby inside me. I wasn’t allowing myself to let that sink in. I just wanted it to not be happening. I felt desperate and I couldn’t understand why my mom was saying no.

  I was confused. Nothing that was happening to me made sense. I had used birth control responsibly, but I was pregnant. My parents preached against teen pregnancy, but wouldn’t agree to let me take a medication so I wouldn’t be pregnant anymore. I couldn’t even get the boy who got me pregnant to return my calls so I could tell him he was about to become a father. How was this happening? Why was it happening? I didn’t understand my world anymore.

  My mom didn’t say anything else. We sat there in silence and I knew my fate was sealed. She wasn’t going to sign. This pregnancy wasn’t just going to go away.

  I didn’t say anything. I just walked out of the room and Sadie quietly followed me. I couldn’t begin to imagine what was going through her head. I didn’t know if she felt sad and embarrassed for me, or if she thought I was brave for telling my mom so directly. I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to talk anymore. She could tell I was freaking out, but there was nothing
more to say than, “Bye. I’ll talk to you later.”

  After Sadie left, I sat on the patio steps feeling sorry for myself. The same thoughts kept running through my mind: I wish I had never got back together with Derek. I wish we had never had sex again. I wish I had gone to get a pregnancy test sooner. I wish I had just never had sex...

  For the first time, I thought about what my future would be like now. My mind was racing. What am I going to do? I’m going to have to rely on my parents. I’m going to have to live here in their house. I have nowhere else to go. Will my baby have her dad around? Am I going to be able finish high school? What about college? What about my life? One scary question led to a depressing realization, which led to another terrifying question, and on and on.

  I started to cry sitting there on the patio steps, looking at the flowing pond under the tree. I thought, I’ll never be able to give my baby what my parents have given me, a stable house to live in, the clothes, the life she’ll want to lead. For the first time in my life, I truly appreciated how blessed I had

  been and now I felt like everything I had was about to come to an end.

  After a couple of hours of crying, I pulled myself together and walked up to my room. My dad met me there. My mom had told him that I was pregnant and he was sad. He gave me a hug and said, “Farrah I want you to know that I love you and you can talk to me if you need anything.” He wanted to talk more, I could tell, but I was so drained from crying and being confused that I didn’t have the energy for an in-depth talk, so I told him I just wanted to go to sleep.

  I was shocked by my father’s reaction. He was so much more supportive than I ever thought he would be. I was relieved he still loved me and wasn’t angry with me for getting pregnant. My parents left me alone for the rest of the night. I didn’t know whether it was a good sign or a bad one, it was just very quiet in our house.

  I decided that I would do whatever it took to gain back my parents trust so they would be supportive of me. I would show them that I was going to work hard, save up money, and be healthy during my pregnancy.

  I called the nurse from Planned Parenthood and notified her that my mom wouldn’t sign the form for me. From the moment I ended that call, I knew my life was going to be different.

  ON MY OWN

  A couple of weeks later, I went to my first doctor’s appointment. By then I had told my sister I was pregnant and she had helped me find an OBGYN. I borrowed her car and went to the appointment on my own. I knew couples usually went to these appointments together, but I still hadn’t told Derek that I was pregnant.

  After over a week of ignoring my calls, he had finally called me back but he didn’t acknowledge that he had done anything wrong. He was still playing childish games, while I was trying to figure out how to grow up fast. I realized he wasn’t ready to hear that I was pregnant. I felt like if I did tell him, he’d just let me down again. So when he called I acted like everything was okay and didn’t tell him about the baby. I was sad that I was keeping such a huge secret from him, but if I was going to share this experience with him I wanted it to be on the right terms, so I held it in.

  I kept the conversation short, and super casual. I didn’t mention I was mad at him, or that I had called him a couple of days earlier. I could tell he was just calling me back to meet up like we usually did, but I wasn’t ready to see him right then so I made up some excuse and got off the phone. Over the next few months, Derek would call me randomly, (and we did meet up a few times) but from that point on I began to distance myself from him.

  I always, even when I was furious with him, wanted to see him, though. I always wanted to talk to him, or even just argue or yell at him, or stay on the phone in silence. I was caught in this place of wanting to be with him, but knowing that, if he wasn’t going to change, the right thing to do was end it. So I just took things day-by-day, always hoping to find a way for us to get back on the same page. But as far as telling him that I was pregnant, I decided that I would wait until it seemed like he was ready to take on the responsibility of being a father.

  Looking back, I can’t help but question whether or not I made the right choice. Of course, if I had known he was going to die I would have told him about the baby—even if he was still partying and treating me badly. I would have taken whatever I could get. But these are the questions that haunt me: Would he have changed? Would he have still gone on hooking up with other girls, doing drugs, and drinking? Would we have been fighting and arguing all the time because I didn’t agree with the choices he was making.

  Would he have died anyway?

  I’ll never have the answers to these questions, but what I knew then was that I didn’t want for us to be together just because I was pregnant with his child. I didn’t want him thinking, Well, I need to do the right thing and stick around because she’s having my kid. I didn’t want him to resent me, or pretend he was changing and go on lying to me about what he was really up to. I wanted him to decide to be with me on his own. I wanted him to call me because he wanted to. I wanted him to choose to hang out with me because he would rather be with me than hang out with losers and do drugs and drink.

  So I went to the appointment for the sonogram all by myself. I was sad that I was going alone, but in a way I was also proud of myself for taking responsibility and doing it on my own in a positive way. Walking in, I felt independent, like I was taking steps towards starting a new life, but I was also nervous because I knew this wasn’t going to be like any check-up I’d had in the past. This appointment was really for my baby.

  I changed into a gown and lay down on the table in the exam room. The nurse put the jelly on my tummy and I looked over at the ultrasound screen. My eyes were trying to focus and make sense of what I was seeing on the screen. It was crazy to be looking inside my stomach, knowing there was supposed to be a baby in there. I was trying to piece it all together and then suddenly it all came into focus. I could see this tiny peanut shape moving around the screen and my first thought was, My mom was right. There is a little life growing inside me. The ultrasound made me finally get it. I finally understood that I was carrying a living being inside my body.

  The nurse printed off some photos of the ultrasound for me. She said that I would probably start feeling the baby move soon and that in a few more weeks I could come back and find out if I was having a boy or a girl. Then she gave me some prenatal vitamins and some helpful advice.

  I felt so different leaving the doctor’s than I had when I arrived. My first instinct was to call Derek and share with him the amazing experience I had just had, but then I remembered my decision not to tell him about the baby. I thought about calling my parents, but I felt like they were still in shock and wouldn’t really be able to understand my surprising happiness about what I had just seen. I was bursting with emotion but had no one to share it with. I was sad, but I shook it off and told myself, “I have a baby in me and I’m going to be healthy and take care of myself and do this right.”

  I did tell my sister about how the baby was developing and showed her the ultrasound photos. After that I put them in a drawer and saved them. I didn’t have a baby book yet, but I knew I wanted to save them for my baby to see one day.

  CALLING ALL PREGNANT TEENS

  Now that I knew for sure I was pregnant, I started going out less and less. I stopped hanging out with a lot of my friends, especially the ones that I didn’t have much in common with other than partying. I focused on trying to graduate early, because I couldn’t stand the thought of not finishing school before the baby came, but I was also trying to cherish the time I had left at school because I knew this period of my life was coming to an end. So I showed up to football games, cheered, went to practice, and tried to remain part of my old life for as long as I could.

  I had been taking a six-month acting, modeling, and self-development course. I had always dreamed of working in the entertainment industry. It was something I was passionate about and I had worked hard at learning the skills I would n
eed to pursue this as a future career. I’d even landed a great part-time modeling gig working as a ring girl for Omaha Fight Club, but, even though I still looked skinnier than most of the other girls, I was going to have to quit that soon since I couldn’t be parading around in pumps and tight dresses once my belly got really big. I realized now that any offers for talent work would be out the door as soon as I started to show.

  At first, I tried to hide from my instructors that I was pregnant, but then one day during a class break I decided to confide to my talent coach that I was pregnant. I could see the shock on her face. She was silent for a moment and then she said, calmly and in a very motherly tone, “I know you work really hard and try your best in class. I’ll look around for other opportunities that might work for you now.”

  I was relieved. I knew it was a long shot, but at least she wasn’t judging me and didn’t say that I should just give up now that I was pregnant. Her offer to help me find other opportunities gave me hope and reassured me that I wasn’t a complete failure. My parents and other people around me were acting like this shocking, unplanned pregnancy was going to define me—that suddenly all I would be was a pregnant, unmarried teen. I knew that wasn’t me. I wasn’t prepared to give up on my dreams.

  At the next class, my coach took me aside and said that she had heard MTV was holding a casting for pregnant teens for a new show they were doing. She told me this was the best opportunity she had found for me because, honestly, there just wasn’t a lot of work out there for pregnant teens.

  That night I went to the MTV website, and there it was: a casting call for a documentary series about the experience of being a pregnant teen. They were looking to film teenage girls during their pregnancies through to the birth of their child. I told my mom and dad about the casting and they agreed to give their consent and help me make a video to send in to the producers.