Allyssa’s Ally

A few weeks ago my mom called me and told me about a 14 year old girl who had fallen pregnant in our town. At first I was horrified, and automatically thought how sick the idea was, a girl younger than my baby sister was having sex. The father is 16 years old. Sixteen years old. Think about that for a second, at 14, what kind of a mother are you meant to be? You are barely old enough to know what kind of person you are, let alone being independantly
responsible for another human life. And as a young, 16 year old man you want to be surfing on the beach, not changing nappies and learning how to be a dad.

But then I thought about me at that age, fair enough I didn’t actually have sex until I was 16 – but if it had been up to me at that stage, I probably would have. Thank god, or my mother (she scared the shit out of my older boyfriend at the time) that Jacques refused to touch me “all the way” until I was at the legal age of 16. Although I had tried all the other things up to the point of actual intercourse, I was certainly not an innocent. Virginity still intact, yes, but innocent, no. It could have easily been me in that 14 year olds position. One slip up, and you have a baby on your hands. I know, I was 18 when I made the very same mistake.

Then at my moms birthday bash a few weeks ago, I got chatting to a lady I have met a few times before. She came up to me and hugged me and paid her respects and made a few sympathetic comments about my loss of Kiera three years ago. She had only heard from my mom that night. After chatting a bit, I came to learn that she was the 14 year old’s mother, and what I couldn’t help noticing was the shame and humiliation in her voice when she told me. She
kept saying how she was trying to hold her head up high for her daughter’s sake, but it was so hard. Even more transparent to me was the fear that she was about to embark on raising yet another child, but this one would not be hers to raise.

The 14 year old was in the car, as she wouldn’t stay home alone, yet didn’t want to come out in public either. After chatting to Sue, the mom, I eventually went out to the car to meet Alyssa. I admit, when I saw her in person I couldn’t help but holding in my breath as I realised how young she looked. A tiny girl, with breasts engorged from pregnancy, yet a young innocent face of a fourteen year old not even old enough to have cellulite or hormones. Other than her tiny little tummy bump, which was disguised by a heavy scarf and jacket, you would never notice she was pregnant. My heart went out to her as she shyly smiled up at me out the car, and held her little tummy with her hands as she stood up. I brought her inside with me, and fetched her a drink and slowly drew her out of her shell and smiled as I watched her open up to me.

I remember so clearly the joy of unknown motherhood, and the questions and plans you make before you even meet the little human growing inside you. Alyssa kept mentioning her boyfriends name, and how he was saving money now so that when they finish school they could buy a house and be a family. She explained the colours of her nursery, and listed the items they had already acquired for her unborn daughter. Inside my head, a voice was screaming out to me that I needed to get involved in this shunned girls life, and make sure that she had one friend who didn’t judge her, and would support her unconditionally.

Last weekend I went to Alyssa’s baby shower and was amazed at the huge turn out. One thing about living in a small town is that people pull together in a time of need. Even if it was just to be there to tell the local gossip group later that day that they actually saw the young girl and she was quite, in fact, pregnant. At the end of the day, as I went over the gifts with Alyssa, we decided that her daughter was bloody spoilt and would be the best dressed baby girl in the area (Just as Kiera was and would have been had she lived, I silently thought to myself).

On Saturday I received a call from Susan, Alyssa’s mom, who was worried about the depressed state of her daughter. Being a trauma counsellor she called for advise, but more so to come over and just be a friend in need. I spent the afternoon with Alyssa, brought her back to my house and listened while she poured out her heart as she sifted through Kiera’s Box of Memories* which came in handy to remind her that I knew what she was going through, but more importantly it gave her something to focus on as she touched on a few sensitive and personal subjects.

I simply cannot get over my amazement at the maturity and courage of this little girl. I know she made a mistake, I know it is shocking about her situation at that age, I know people are apalled, I know its going to be hard on her family, but I also know how ashamed she is despite loving her unborn baby, and more importantly, I know she is human. And every human on this planet needs someone to support them some times.