I was a teen mom.
I found out at 19 that I was pregnant. And when you think of that phrase “don’t have a pot to piss in” that’s the exact feeling I had when I saw those two lines.
What business did I have bringing a baby into this world?
Hell, I was at that phase in life where vodka made the grocery and not much else.
But there I was, pregnant and unsure of what choices I had.
Sure, there were the obvious choices. Abortion or adoption. But those weren’t the choices I was finding myself with.
I found myself realizing that this baby would be my reason for living. This child would be my wake up call.
I would soon get to learn the definition of unconditional love. I would get to experience being apart of something much greater than myself.
I had downfalls ahead that I wouldn’t realize were coming.
I had a fatherless child due to what started out as a “fun” situation. It would ultimately end my future plans, not his.
I had a job that I was barely supporting just me off of.
Even with plenty of odds stacked against me, I didn’t let this sway my decision.
This baby was my future. This baby would be my everything.
I would learn to love without conditions and this baby would teach me more about myself than I could have imagined.
I would find strength I didn’t know I had. Failure was no longer an option. Being out all night and sleeping all day would merely be a thing of the past.
Well I was wrong. I had all these big plans to be that successful, tight knit mother I knew this baby needed, but I would learn to accept the truth.
To say when the downfall began is irrelevant. It’s irrelevant because there is was with an infant starring down the barrel of failure.
I lost my job, my fault. I lost my licence, my fault. Havoc was beginning to emerge all around me and there was one common denominator, me, myself and I.
I was irresponsible, I was selfish. Since I couldn’t live up to the idealistic mother I wanted to be, I settled for attempting to juggle two separate lives. I would adhere to the rules by day and let all my stresses disappear at night.
So there I was, not a clue as to what I was doing. Caught in the crosshair of my young adulthood and motherhood.
I was lost, I was confused. I didn’t deserve this baby. He was supposed to be my reason for living. Instead I was taking any avenue I could to escape the reality I had created.
The guilt began to fester, the drinking spiraled out of control. It would take long for drugs to play their part in it all.
Being unemployed and choosing to make the choices I was making would soon lead to an eviction notice at my doorstep.
That was hands down the best thing that could have happened to me.
I ate a healthy portion of humble pie and asked the dreaded question, “grandma and grandpa, can I move back home?”
Amongst all of this I met my now ex-fiance. That’s a story for another time.
Within a couple of months I had a job then two. My grandpa helped me reinstate my license and paying him back every dime was and still is my biggest accomplishment to date.
I bought a car with my own money and would continue to climb out of this hole that took me years to dig.
To all the single, young and struggling mothers out there, I want you to know you are not alone. Perfection is never reached in motherhood and remember that the harder you struggle, the stronger you rise.