If I had to think quickly about one moment in my life that had changed its course for ever, it would be tempting to focus straight away on the whole ‘pregnant at 16’ thing.

Yeah, I know, having a baby at 17 in the middle of your A-levels is a pretty big deal, (insert subtle link to teenage birth story here), but what about the smaller events, the ones you don’t thing of as being important at the time? I found a photo recently that made me think about one seemingly small decision that ended up having a huge impact on my life.

Belle was just a few weeks old, (I was 24 this time around, still fairly young), and things weren’t going altogether as well as I had hoped. Bee had been a ‘good’ baby in the ‘sleep through the night, be held by anybody’ sense and of course at the time I had smugly put it down to my ‘relaxed parenting style’. Oh how everyone must have laughed when Belle came along. View Post

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Now that’s a great title for a blog post isn’t it?

When Bee first told me she was gay, about a year ago, one of my very first thoughts (after some initial parental reassurance of course) was ‘Ooh, this would make a great blog post!’ Fortunately I have some shred of sensitivity and didn’t say anything at all until recently when Bee casually said ‘you should blog about that.’

Five magical words that mummy bloggers with older children hardly ever hear.

I’ve been living through a bit of an inner turmoil over the last few years. On the one hand I have been terrified of Bee getting pregnant and carrying on the whole teenage pregnancy cycle that I started 18 years ago, but on the other hand it is really tricky to go crazy with the whole ‘anti-pregnancy’ message when the person you are lobbying is the result of just such a incident.

It’s like saying ‘whatever you do, absolutely don’t let YOU happen to you!’

That would not be cool. View Post

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Teenage mums get a bum deal don’t they? If you listen to The Daily Mail, teenage pregnancy is the root of all evil, costing the economy millions in benefits and bringing about the downfall of society. Generally, teenage pregnancy is felt to be a Bad Thing.

But is it?

Being a teenage mum is subject to a massive amount of stereotyping, but is it really the young mums who are costing us all the cash?

Having children when you’re young is perfectly natural. You body is better equipped generally to cope with pregnancy at a younger age, and recovers more quickly too. Postponing childbirth into your thirties and even forties is a very modern phenomena, and one, it could be argued, that has more serious implications health wise, for both mother and baby, than teenage pregnancy will ever have.

Studies have shown than pregnant women under 18:

  • Are more likely to have a normal vaginal delivery
  • Have lower rates of maternal and perinatal morbidity

Pregnant mums over 35 however have an increased risk of:

  • Gestational diabetes and hypertension
  • Placenta previa
  • Low birth weight
  • Prematurity

If you are having a baby and you are over 35, your risk of miscarriage doubles, and your baby has a 1 in 400 chance of Downs Syndrome.

All of these complications have a cost, both financial and physical. Keeping a premature baby in special care for example costs over £1,000 a day, and that’s a lot of housing benefit…

Is it really OK for older mums to pass judgement on teenagers, when their pregnancies are not only risking the health of their babies, but also costing us thousands of pounds in additional health care?

Dr Susan Bewley, of Guy’s and St Thomas’ Hospital in London, agrees that middle-aged mums are putting a huge strain on the NHS as they are more likely to face problems conceiving, suffer pregnancy complications and have premature babies.

Dr Bewley told the Sunday Times: “Middle-age pregnancy is a public health problem because women en masse are moving out of childbearing and that brings preventable disease and stress with it. Middle-age pregnancy has complications in the same way as teenage pregnancy. We have policies to address teenage pregnancy but not middle-age pregnancy.”

Suddenly teenage pregnancy doesn’t look like such a bad option.

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As regular readers may know, I was a teenage mum. Pregnant at 16, I gave birth to Bee a few months after my seventeenth birthday. And I got a degree and everything. Honestly, who’d have thought it?

Today, to prove that yes, there is more than one teenager in the UK who has managed to have a baby and not end up leaving school and relying on Jeremy Kyle as her sole source of income, I have a guest post from  a young mummy called Elle. Her story is pretty shocking, but incredibly moving. When I first read it I actually cried, which was a bit awkward as I was in a cafe at the time, but it bought back such powerful memories for me, and made me so proud, even though we’ve never met. It was all a bit overwhelming.

Please make Elle very welcome, and go check out her blog, Tales of a Young Mummy, if you want to read more teenage mum stories. We’re not all bad you know.

…

I’m seventeen. Just over a year ago I found out that I was pregnant. 33 weeks pregnant. This, of course, came as a shock. I didn’t know what to do, where to go. If it wasn’t for the support of my lovely form tutor at school I’m not sure what I would have done.

I suppose my story begins within the innocence of a Triple Science lesson. My form tutor knocked on the classroom door, “Come in!” my science teacher called.

“Can I have a quick word with Elle?” She asked, “Grab your stuff El and follow me”. So I did as I was told and totted off behind her. A few moments later I found myself being offered a chair in the company of the student services ladies.

“Elle, there’s no easy way of saying this, but we’re worried. You’re meant to be flying to America next month, but we’re concerned you won’t be able to go…”

“What? Of course I can fly…” I was confused, the following month I was supposed to be going to Florida with my boyfriend and his family. Why did these ladies think I wouldn’t be able to go?

“Elle, we think you’re pregnant.” Of course, in that situation I didn’t know what to say. So I said the obvious: “How?” I didn’t mean how did I get pregnant!

After they explained to me that they had seen me gain a bit of weight and had noticed that my boobs had grown I was still confused and wondered how they were so confident that meant I was pregnant? One of them was trying for a baby herself and had been reading all the baby books.

So now that was cleared up in my mind, what was I to do? My form tutor made me call Tyler, my boyfriend, who was on home study that afternoon. I met him and we walked into town to Superdrug. We were overwhelmed by the amount of pregnancy tests on the shelves – which should we chose?

Sat on the edge of the bath, wondering what the hell I was meant to do with this stick in my hand was the weirdest feeling I’ve ever experienced. I can’t explain it. I did the test. Within seconds, I didn’t even get a chance to get up off the toilet, the colours changed. It was true. I was pregnant. “Tyler, look.”

“But it’s not 5 minutes yet…SHIT” I wasn’t ready to be a mum.

The next 3 weeks are a blur in my mind. So much happened. Went to doctors, I was told 20 weeks pregnant. Went for scan, I was told 33 weeks pregnant.

3 weeks later, at 36 weeks gestation, I was sat in a labour suite at 4am. At first I was told I wasn’t in labour. Just as water was being run for the birthing pool the midwife asked if she could just check if I was dilated. I didn’t much like the sound of that! Minutes later, my waters had broken and I was pushing. By 6.20am I was laid with my beautiful baby girl in my arms. Willow Lillah Beere, weighing 7lb 2oz.

A year later and we’ve been through a lot. We’ve spent a total of about 2 weeks in the children’s ward at our local hospital. Willow has had whooping cough, bronchiolitis 3 times, a swollen abdomen which was thought to be a gluten intolerance, a burnt hand and a perforated ear drum. The list is never-ending, but she’s as beautiful as ever.

I went back to school when Willow was 3 weeks old to study for my exams. I sat all of them, except for drama as Willow was in hospital with whooping cough!

I came out of my GCSE’s with 5 A grades and 4 B’s. So anyone that assumes all teen mums are useless might want to think again. We’re not all like that you know!

I now studying for my A-levels. It is hard with a one year old to look after as well, but I’ll get through it. I want to build the best future I can for myself and Willow. And yes, I am still with Tyler. He’s been through everything with us the past year, he’s been my rock. Well, my Mum has too, I’m still living at home with her, and I’m so grateful for that. Without my parents and Tyler around I wouldn’t be coping anywhere near as well.

I have a huge support network around me, and I am so thankful for everyone. I wouldn’t be where I am today, on my way to success, without my family.

Tyler is working full-time as an accountant and gave uni a miss so he could be at home to look after his daughter, and work to provide for her. He doesn’t live with us, but he does live just down the road so we do get to see him every day, and he gets to see his beautiful little Willow.

We have our first family holiday coming up in July, and oh I’m so excited! It’s only to Butlins, but we get to spend the whole weekend together!

Much love,
Young Mummy xxx

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New research published this week by the University of Bristol, claims that within families, teen pregnancy tends to be contagious.

What an odd term to choose.

Contagious. Makes it sound like a nasty disease doesn’t it? Not, in my humble ‘I-was-a-teenage-mum-and-I-don’t-live-off-benefits’ opinion, a terribly positive start to the piece.

The study found that having an elder sister go through a teen pregnancy increases the chance of a teenage pregnancy in younger siblings – known as a ‘peer effect’. This peer effect is apparently a powerful force, doubling the likelihood of a younger sister becoming pregnant as a teenager, from one in five to two in five. View Post

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Welcome to my 100th post!

*Noise of small brass band playing a fanfare*

I honestly can’t believe I have made it. I have such a short attention span that when I started blogging in December I honestly thought the novelty would wear off it about, ooh, a week? But do you know what has kept me going? Other of course than it being a fantastic procrastination tool (I can’t possibly start that very important piece of work now, can’t you see I’m blogging?).

It’s you! When I first started, I had never even read a blog, and I never imagined other people would be interested in what I had to say, let alone be inspired to say something back.

And now look at me. I am a hopeless addict. Every time someone comments, the attention seeking, praise driven me gives a little cheer ‘Look! They like me!’

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olbas for children

I’ve been having a bit of a teenage pregnancy week this week, influenced by stories in the news and events in my own life. Although it’s 14 years now since I became a mum at 17 to Bee (pictured right as a baby), having been a teenage parent is still a hugely defining part of who I am and I feel an ever present determination to prove to the world that teenage pregnancy doesn’t mean a wasted life.

Of course if you believe the media, teenage pregnancy is the root of all evil, both the cause and the symptom of a society whose morals are crumbling faster than my house, (chunks of which have recently started appearing in the garden).

Jan Moir has vented her fury against teenage mums today in a particularly ignorant and disgusting fashion. I really can’t even begin to respond to her vicious rant without wanting to stab pins in my own eyes with frustration. Suffice to say Jan:

  • I was 16 when I got pregnant, which is quite legal thank you very much.
  • I was not drunk.
  • I remained in a stable happy relationship with the father for several years.
  • I have never lived in a council house, but if I had, that would have been my absolute right.
  • My life has been full of opportunities for fulfillment and excitement.
  • And I have most definitely managed to get myself “on the career ladder, be independent, promoted AND valued.”

Despite Jan’s prophecy of me wallowing forever in misery and housing benefit, I even managed – shock horror – to get a degree! A first class degree in Economics no less. Hard to believe I know that a teenage parent would even dare to have any kind of ambition or aspirations, or go as far as to consider making a good life for herself and her family.

And I’m not the only one. My friend Camilla had her baby while she was at university and lo and behold she isn’t wasting her life “from now until the grave…in a council house papered with State handouts and increasing despair”, as Moir so eloquently puts it.

But enough of my bitter sarcasm. I know I was lucky in that I had fantastic support from my family (pictured left – My Mum, Gran, Me and my sister), but can we please just all realise that, although obviously not ideal,  having a baby as a teenager doesn’t automatically spell disaster?

Women have babies at all ages and manage to maintain interesting careers and social lives. How about, as Camilla suggests, we think instead about supporting young mums? Rather than just dumping them on the educational scrapheap, we could offer these young women incentives and practical support to continue their education, ultimately facilitating their long term financial and emotional independence.

We could even celebrate the achievements of  teenage parents – congratulate them for the fantastic job they do juggling families, schooling and work, all while having their confidence, ambitions and parenting skills constantly undermined by a predominantly ignorant media?

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Today is my local college’s rag day. I realise this as soon as I walk into town and discover the centre overrun with groups of teenagers wearing even fewer clothes than they normally do. It is bitterly cold today – I am wearing two scarves – but there are girls out in literally their underwear. My motherly instinct, such as it is, is immediately aroused, as I’m sure is the libido of many a middle aged man. I am worried for these girls. Surely it is possible to actually DIE from exposing yourself all day to freezing temperatures in just a bunny girl outfit?

The original meaning of rag day is of course to raise money for local good causes, and I do see a few teens clutching collection boxes to their shivering bosoms, but given no one actually asks me for money I’m not convinced of its effectiveness as a fundraising technique. I do see a gang of 16 year old pirates taking it in turns to swig from a bottle of own brand vodka. Very philanthropic.

I would like to be able to recall fond memories of my own college rag days, but I didn’t actually take part in either of them. For the first, aged 16, I was three months pregnant and, unlike my friends, the vomiting I was doing on a daily basis was not preceded by days and nights of wholesome, drunken teenage fun.

For the second, a year later, my own puking had been replaced by that of my six month old baby daughter. I gave birth at the end of July, between the first and second years of my A-levels, and had returned to college in the September when she was six weeks old. I suppose I could have taken part in this rag day, but with a baby at home you don’t enjoy that same sense of freedom that my friends would have felt. Day time drinking is really no fun when you know you have to be home by tea time to put a baby to bed. Plus any new mum will appreciate that baby-free time is precious – I had three A-levels to study for and all my spare time was taken up with essay writing and revision.

I look at the gangs of kids in town and, aside from feeling terribly old and frumpy, wonder if I have missed out. Did being a teenage mum keep me from enjoying my childhood to the full? Maybe, but if that just means I got to stay home in the warm, while my peers drunkenly roamed the streets in their pants, I’m not sure I feel too deprived…

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