Date: Fri, 14 Jan 2000
I am only 19 years old, but I already have a 10 month old daughter, Sarah. I may be young, but I think I am a patient and good mother.
My fiancée Andrew and I weren't trying for another baby, we were going to wait until March when Sarah turned one. A good friend of mine, Fiona, had told us a couple of weeks earlier that they were having another baby. Her daughter Cassia is only 5 days younger than Sarah and the girls have a great time playing together. On Christmas Eve, after spotting but not a proper period, I did a pregnancy test, which confirmed my suspicions. I told Andrew that night, and we held each other and talked about how happy we were. Sure, the baby was another 'accident', but Sarah is living proof that the smallest accidents bring the greatest joy.
On Christmas Day, we broke the news to Andrews family, and over the next few weeks, mine as well. They were all apprehensive about my first pregnancy, but after seeing that I could cope with a child, I received a much better response this time.
Fiona and I joked about how we were going to have babies in each others pockets again. The Christmas break was lovely, even though I couldn't keep down the Xmas lunch, or much else for the next couple of weeks. I felt a lot more tired this time around, working full time as well as running a house, and packing to move into the next one. It was lovely going into houses and picking the babies room out.
I feel awful to say though, that sometimes when Sarah was being especially difficult, or I was so tired I was going to collapse, I'd think to myself, "How's it going to be when this one comes along? How am I going to cope? I wish I hadn't fallen pregnant just yet."
Last night I started bleeding. I was up most of the night in agony and had a fitful sleep, full of dreams of dead babies. Early this morning I passed my 8 week old fetus into the toilet. I didn't want to flush it, such an undignified end to such a wonderful miracle. I sat down and cried for an hour after I'd done it. I couldn't stop thinking of my dead daughter lying in the sewer in a pile of other peoples feces. I pulled out the tiny clothes I'd bought for her, and cried on the couch. I knew I was having a little girl the day I found out I was pregnant, just the same as I knew with Sarah.
When I was 16, I had an abortion. I know it was the right thing to do in hindsight, but I know this is my punishment. I turned my back on a baby I couldn't handle, so I God had the baby I wanted taken away from me. We're even now, a child for a child.
I don't want to get pregnant again. All Andrew really said was we can have another one. I know that, but I just want to cherish the little one I have now.
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