I don’t remember what symptom first caused me to take a pregnancy test, but when I saw the positive result on the stick, I remember not being surprised. Deep down I knew, I was about two or three weeks gone.
I was 16 and living on my own. I'd been going through a tough time, not getting along with my family. I'd been to-ing and fro-ing between my family home and girls' shelters before moving into my own bedsit.
I was in grade 11 and working part-time to support myself.
After I told my 15-year-old boyfriend I was pregnant, we didn’t speak of it again. I think we kind of went into denial. I told no one else other than my best friend. I remember she had already left school and was working as a trainee in a pharmacy. I didn’t know how to tell her so I just picked up a parenting magazine and went up to the counter.
She looked at me with a confused look on her face until it dawned on her. I was the one that was going to be a parent.
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Six months passed and the whole time I'd been working, going to school and riding my motorbike. I hid it from everyone.
I was terrified. I felt alone and didn’t know how to cope with the reality of it all.
I don’t know what scared me the most: that people might try to force me into a termination or that I might face the judgement of others.
I buried it deep inside a part of my brain that allowed me to avoid the issue and continue on like it wasn’t happening. My boyfriend and I never even actually had a conversation about it. It was like we found out and then didn’t know how to deal with it so we just did nothing.
This was until little clues started giving it away. Eventually my mum asked me if I was pregnant (I had recently moved back in with her - subconsciously I think I knew I could not do it alone).