It was six in the morning on September 24, 2007. I was awaken by my sister’s crying baby. I fixed him a bottle and tried to fall asleep. As I laid there, I felt liquid gushing between my legs. Is it blood?, I thought. I felt it and looked at my hands, it was clear. I woke my mom and told her what was happening. As we rushed to the hospital, she kept repeating, “You better pray that your baby doesn’t die.” And I thought back to March of that year.
I had gotten pregnant a month before my boyfriend left American Samoa. When I told him, he said, “Carol, you better not do anything stupid to that baby. If you can’t take care of it, my mom can”. Easy for you to say, I thought, you’re leaving.
I was a straight-A junior in high school, and also part of the National Honor Society. I had a lot of responsibilities in my church and took part in a lot of community activities. My grandparents always pushed me to do well in school, and I did everything I could to live up to their expectations and to make them proud. I had dreamt of going to college and getting a Doctorate’s degree, majoring in either Civil Engineering or Meteorology.
My grandparents are very strong and dedicated Adventists. They were strict with my siblings and I, and it made it kind of hard for us to talk to them about our problems. I was scared to tell them about my pregnancy, so I hid it. I tried a lot of “home abortion” methods, and none of them worked. I was about six and half months pregnant when I finally broke down and told my grandparents. They were very disappointed, and decided to let me stay with my mom for a while.
I was transferred from hospital to hospital because of the condition I was in. I was going into premature labor and the doctors were afraid that if the baby came too soon, either of us could die. In the hospital, I prayed a lot. I wanted to be a mother to the child that I tried to get rid of. God answered my prayers by letting my baby come two weeks later. Despite the fact that I had no prenatal care or check-ups, she was a very healthy four pound eleven ounce baby.
I believe that God gave me a second chance to be a mother, a second chance to achieve my goals, and a second chance to live. I believe that each and every one of us have a second chance at everything. When you don’t succeed the first time, ask for a second chance. And believe me, it’s worth the pain and trouble you go through.
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