As a child I had dreams of still being a virgin when I hit age 21. I wouldn’t say I had dreams of losing my virginity on my wedding night because back then I didn’t picture being married. But my vision was of losing it on the night of my 21st birthday with the man I loved and getting pregnant with his son. To me, someone losing their virginity meant they were going to get pregnant. I didn’t know the difference between the two.

But everything changed when I turned 8 and my virginity was taken from me by a family “friend.” It hurts that my biological parents trusted this person to care for me.

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I was sexually abused from age 8 to age 14. I was just lucky I didn’t get pregnant. I was still playing with my Barbie dolls until I was 15. I didn’t have sex willingly until I was pushing 17.

What kept me from choosing to have sex before that is what I saw around me—a world where being a teenage mom was really popular. Many teens I knew were willing to do anything and everything to get pregnant so they’d feel loved, and nine times out of 10 the baby daddy went running scared. Seeing this affected my own decisions to have sex because I wasn’t a risk taker. My fear of sexually transmitted diseases and getting pregnant outweighed the pressure to follow the leader.

But peer pressure finally got to me. My foster cousins dared me to have sex with a boy, and I did. He was only 14 and lived in the same projects my aunt lived in. I didn’t really want to do it, but just to fit in I went all the way with this kid. I was 16 and inexperienced and from the way things went so quickly, so was he.

That one-night-stand dare started a bad phase of my life. I became a fast one. I did things without thinking, having unprotected sex with the same unreliable dudes as my cousins did.

A Different Kind of Guy

I started seeing Michael, who’s now my husband, when I was nearing 18. Our relationship developed slowly. I got his phone number from a friend and talked to him for about a year before we met in person. We met at a friend’s house on Halloween.

image by Froylan Garcia

Sex with Michael was different than with other guys. I wanted to do it and I enjoyed it. He earned my trust by the year of talking over the phone. Sleeping around on Michael was the last thing on mind; I wanted him and only him. I even stopped hanging out with my cousins since they were a bad influence on me.

Michael and I continued dating and moved in together. We talked about having a baby, but we didn’t plan for it to happen so soon. We usually used condoms, but I think it was angry make-up sex, unprotected, that led to my tummy ache.

I went to the doctor with Michael, and the next thing I knew, the doctor was telling me I was expecting. The social worker in the clinic talked to me about my options. They told me how abortion can happen up until hitting third trimester and how adoption was another choice if I was unable to care for the baby, but none of it interested me.

I wanted my baby—no doubt about it. I wanted my baby because I wanted to give the baby the loving hugs and kisses I’d wanted as a child, but never had. I was glad that I was 21, not a teen mom, though to be honest, as a teenager I was jealous of my cousins because they had their babies in their teen years and they got treated special because of it.

But once I witnessed their struggles to support a baby, attend school, and still have a social life with friends, I was happy it happened later rather than sooner. I didn’t have to worry about battling for custody, child support, or welfare. I was in a committed relationship with a responsible guy who had a steady job. It wasn’t like back when I was single, having unprotected sex with guys who already had kids they didn’t care for. I gave birth to Emma right around my 22nd birthday.

Being a new mom and young adult wasn’t what I expected. It was hard loving and bonding with Emma. Counseling made me come to the realization that my own issues affected my feelings toward my daughter. In counseling I first said out loud, “I don’t love myself and that’s keeping me from bonding with my daughter.” It hurts deeply to think about back when I couldn’t give Emma the motherly love she needed.

Now I can’t stop hugging and kissing her while telling her “I love you.” At times I feel I do it too much. I guess I still want to make up for all the affection I never got as a child.

My Examples

image by Froylan Garcia

The parenting I got wasn’t the picture perfect family you see on the television set. I was left alone to care for myself, and then I was sexually abused. It affected my ability to love myself and how I pictured being a mother that was going to be happy all the time.

I thought my daughter was going to bring nothing but joy and happiness, but all I felt was pain in the beginning. Not because of my daughter, but because of the lack of love in my own childhood. I’m not saying I was jealous of my own daughter having me and Michael as loving parents, but it hurt me a lot to see that my daughter was getting what I always wanted and needed.

Fortunately, Michael is a wonderful dad. The way he rocked and cradled Emma was so amazing. He took to the baby more than he thought he would. He didn’t have any issues that interfered with him being a parent, because his mother and father did their best caring for him and his siblings.

Having a child made me flash back on my childhood. I have no memories of my parents’ warm hugs or gentle kisses. I know it’s a good thing that I stopped the cycle of the neglect and abandonment in my family history, but, still, my past was traumatizing and it caused me to withdraw from my daughter.

Not Quite Ready

When I got pregnant with my second child, Emma was only 10 months old. I wasn’t using birth control because I thought you couldn’t get pregnant while you were nursing. I had just begun attending a day treatment program five days a week. I was taking anger management classes and parenting classes to help me bond better with Emma.

When I told Michael that I was pregnant again, he was so excited. The doctors didn’t even ask me if I wanted to keep the baby this time. It was like they assumed that aborting wasn’t a thought.

But deep down inside it was. If I was having trouble bonding with Emma, did I want to bring her sibling into the world and have the same problem? Would I have time to get the treatment I needed and take care of two small babies? “Maybe I shouldn’t have a second child yet” stayed in my mind, but their father wanted the baby. When I told him I was thinking about abortion he went bananas.

image by Froylan Garcia

That night I cried myself to sleep. In the morning it hit me that I wanted to have my baby even though it was going to be tough for me to handle two of them. I decided to do anything and everything to make myself mentally ready. I took more parenting classes, started going to support groups, and worked hard with my therapist.

I learned to love myself by figuring out who I really was—as opposed to the person I was acting like to gain my family’s and friends’ approval. The fake Erica would have felt entitled to custody, child support, and welfare and I would have done anything to get full custody and apply for public assistance— just for the money. That’s the way my cousins played men and the system.

The real me was caring enough to raise my kids with their father, take the necessary steps to get educated and get training to work a part-time job, and be a part-time mom. Through the whole pregnancy I was attending treatment, taking mood stabilizers, and slowly bonding with Emma.

When I gave birth to my second daughter, Michel, I didn’t have a bonding problem. I always felt connected to her even when she was in my womb. It was easier because I was learning to love myself. Once I could love myself I could love my daughters unconditionally.

I am lucky that I didn’t follow the path of my family and friends because if I did I would have ended up with a fatherless child and no help. Some of my friends and family members had babies by dudes I used to sleep with: Imagine me and my cousins having babies by the same deadbeat father! I know too many teens who are having these babies, still living at home with mama, with no job and practically no education and depending on others to take care of their responsibilities.

I wish I could call on my mama for help, but I had to woman up and take care of my own responsibilities. I figured out what help I needed and I got it. When I was a teenager, I was still living at my foster aunt’s house up in Spanish Harlem, sleeping on couch pillows, no money, no identification or anything to help myself get on my feet. I am happy I waited until I had my own place with my reasonable partner and we had enough money to get our baby what she needed.

Not Like Babysitting

For all you teens feeling peer pressured, wanting to fit in with the crowd, or just wanting a baby to be loved, I suggest that you think twice. Parenting a child may look easy, but it’s not. It’s not the same as babysitting, where you give that baby back to his mother to handle all the stressful situations.

Once you have a baby of your own, there are no breaks. You always have to be on your toes to change diapers every 15 minutes to a half hour, feed the baby every 2 to 3 hours, and wake up to a crying baby and figure out if the baby needs a diaper change, feeding, is too hot or cold, or just needs their mommy to rock them back to dream world.

The cries of a baby may seem sweet to you now, but wait till it’s yours. You can’t ignore those cries because they just get louder until baby is soothed. Taking care of a baby drains your energy. Yeah, you get accustomed to a routine and things gets easier but not until the baby is at least a couple of months old. There will be days you won’t have time to freshen up, clean the house, or even eat because all your time and focus is on nurturing your baby.

I honestly believe that all girls and women should have husbands or boyfriends to have children. Raising a baby is a hard job, and kids need both a female and male figure in their lives. It eases a lot of the stress that comes with having a baby if a female has a partner who is also striving to be educated, works hard, and wants to be a dad to his kids.