I was 23 when I found out that I was pregnant—and just two weeks away from entering my senior year at Christendom College. I went to the doctor as soon as I possibly could because I was so scared, and I hoped there was a chance that the tests I took were wrong. I stared in shock at the tiny baby on the sonogram, and I sat in disbelief as the doctor said “Congratulations!” With a blank look on my face, all I could do was wonder, “How is this a good thing?” The word “congratulations” is supposed to evoke feelings of happiness and excitement. But I was disappointed, depressed, and scared, and I had no idea what to do.
In my terrified state of mind, I thought my only option was to find a family willing to take on the responsibilities of caring for a baby. I didn’t feel that I was capable. Furthermore, I was scared of what people would think of me because not only was I unmarried, but I was still living at my parents’ house and could barely take care of myself.