I’m glad I’m 26
People watching is so much fun, isn’t it? Don’t act like you don’t do it. Because you know you do.
I was at the OB’s office this morning, where my doctor was running a little late. No big deal. I’m typically in and out in 15 minutes, but I sat in the waiting room for 30 minutes. Since it never, ever happens, I just let it slide and texted with my Mom and best friend Nicole.
As my Mom would say, at least I didn’t have to wait 30 minutes naked. That’s the worst.
There was a girl sitting next to her Mom waiting to be seen. She couldn’t have been more than 15 and she looked scared. Her Mom looked sad and that she was keeping herself together with tape and glue.
It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that one out – the young girl was pregnant.
When I was a teenager, I had a serious boyfriend. But we weren’t serious enough to do that. I didn’t want to be that girl. Regardless of how safe I could possibly be. Because let’s face it – a 16 year old’s knowledge of condoms aren’t the greatest. I’d be the one in sex-ed putting it on the banana inside out thus breaking the end.
Then I’d end up pregnant.
I made a promise to myself that I’d wait until I was 18. I owed my Mom that much, being as she raised me right. (And this is not to say that anyone who cashed in their V-card earlier weren’t raised right.) Not to mention, I was kind of prudish. I did stuff, don’t get me wrong. I just stayed away from the promised land.
This girl looked absolutely petrified. And at that age, what boy is responsible to help her out? Monetarily, emotionally, physically? Being pregnant isn’t just about having a baby. It’s a roller coaster ride. Support is needed. Kudos to her Mom for sitting with her and making sure she gets all the best care. But, that still has to be so hard. I can’t even imagine.
And while I sat there, I felt sorry. Not that they were wanting my sympathy, I just felt bad. I wasn’t being judgmental, I wasn’t being snarky. I was feeling genuine.
I was 22 when I had Claire. She was fully planned.
I was 24 when I had Luca. He was fully planned.
I am 26 now. And I’m fully capable of having this baby. Emotionally, monetarily, physically.
When I was 16, hell no.
I’m not saying, let’s all revert to the 1950’s where Dad worked, Mom stayed at home and the kids were all prim and proper. I’m saying, let’s be safe. I know that for myself, if I had been 16 and pregnant, I would have been devastated. I wouldn’t have been able to live the life I wanted to. I know my opportunities would have been more limited. While I know I would have had full support from my Mom and sister, it wouldn’t have been the same.
Matt gets up with the kids. He sleeps right next to me every night, ready and waiting for anything to happen. He rubs my back. He makes sure I see the doctor. He makes sure I drink enough water. He cleans up the dishes. He works full time so I don’t have to.
Who at 16 gets support like that?
I’d hope they would, but let’s be realistic.
I’m so glad I’m 26, married, and lame. I’m glad that I have a mortgage and car payments. I’m glad I have bills to pay. I’m glad that my life is boring and predictable.
I wish nothing but the best of luck to the girl in the waiting room. I hope she finds happiness and gets all the support she needs. Most of all, I hope that baby is loved so much that it doesn’t matter that its Mom is young.
Because that’s one thing I can promise you – while I’m boring and predictable, my baby will be over-loved if that’s possible.