Post: #1

In her defense, she tried.... somewhat.

http://www.dailymail.co.uk/femail/articl...m-too.html

Corrie Rowland has become one of Britain's youngest grandmothers at 33

At 15 she had shocked her respectable parents by falling pregnant in 1997

She gave birth to her daughter Bethany, who at 17 has just had a baby son

Corrie feared she'd been to blame but has since spoken of her excitement


I've highlighted the pertinent parts - don't waste your time reading anything else.

Quote:The spare crib sits at the end of my bed, with the pale-blue romper suits neatly folded nearby. My parenting advice has (I hope) been gratefully received; my suggestion for a baby name politely rebuffed. I am exhausted and besotted in equal measure because last week I became a grandmother — and I couldn’t be happier.

My feelings of pride will be much the same as those of any other woman whose child has just given birth for the first time, my decision to hold my daughter Bethany’s hand as she welcomed her baby boy Elijah into the world nothing out of the ordinary.

While my situation may sound familiar, the circumstances surrounding it are anything but, because I am only 33 — an age at which most women are still in the early stages of motherhood themselves.

While they grapple with nappy changing and toddler tantrums I am getting my head around my altogether grander sounding title of ‘grandmother’ — not least because at 17 my daughter Bethany is still a child herself.

By now you will have done the maths and realised that I, too, was a teenage mum. I defied my respectable upbringing to fall pregnant at 15, while I was still an ambitious schoolgirl who harboured visions of a career and a conventional family later down the line.

Of course, my dreams were shattered; my own parents bitterly disappointed. And at first young motherhood seemed unutterably bleak, as I suspect it will at times to Bethany, who is nonetheless coping gallantly at the moment on two hours’ sleep at a time. Nobody knows better than me the sacrifices she will have to make — but nobody understands better the joy she will experience, too.

For all its hardships teenage motherhood has brought with it undoubted benefits, and as surprising and controversial as this will sound to many, I don’t believe it need necessarily be a bad thing.

Having a baby so young has made me more focused and tenacious, and, now that the most demanding years of bringing up a baby are behind me, I have the freedom to enjoy the rest of my life, and, of course, my grandchild. In fact, I would go so far as to say being a teenage mum has been my greatest achievement — as I hope it will be my daughter’s, too.

Yeah, ok there....

Quote:Not that I felt quite so optimistic about my situation at the time. I was halfway through my first year of GCSEs when I lost my virginity to a boy in the same class as me at school.

We’d been together for over a year and I remember telling my mother, Linda, now 60, a retired railway crossing keeper, that I was ready to take our relationship further.

With hindsight, I was hoping for advice, but she simply said: ‘OK’, and carried on with her housework. Perhaps she was too embarrassed to talk to me about contraception, but the upshot was that I was woefully naive and didn’t even know I could get pregnant as I sneaked my boyfriend into my bedroom after school behind my parents’ back so we could have sex.

That's some ignorance!

Quote:Fenwick, the small Yorkshire village where I grew up, wasn’t exactly filled with teenage mothers. We’d had scant sex education at school and, in my mind, pregnancy was something that happened to grown women, not girls.

But almost a year later, in September 1997, I realised my period was late. Confused, I confided in an older girl in our village, who told me I might be pregnant. She recommended I visit a family planning clinic where I could take a free pregnancy test. I felt numb with panic as the kindly nurse there told me I was eight weeks pregnant. I blurted out the news to my elder brother, Nigel, who told my father Keith, a railway engineer.

He and my mum were horrified. Dad marched me into the living room and said he would pay for me to have a termination. Mum sat silently, unable to meet my eyes. I was expected to excel at my GCSEs the following summer, before going to college and becoming a nurse.

But abortion was never an option to me — despite my boyfriend, who was terrified at the prospect of becoming a teenage dad, also pressuring me into having one. I’d already begun to sense the new life growing inside me and I couldn’t stand to end it.

Besides, I had absolutely no idea how tough raising a baby would be. Even as my pregnancy progressed, my growing bump straining the seams of my school uniform, I barely dwelled on the hardships ahead.

It was only after Bethany was born in March 1998 at Doncaster Royal Infirmary, with my mother — who had reluctantly accepted my decision — by my side that the reality of my situation sunk in. My traumatic three-day labour was nothing compared with the challenge of trying to juggle exam revision with a newborn.

My mum baby-sat Bethany as I sat my exams that May, but tiredness and lack of preparation meant my grades suffered. Meanwhile, I split up with Bethany’s father when she was two months, the strain too great for our relationship to stand.

Stubbornly determined to forge my own future, I moved out of my parents’ home and into an empty house my aunt owned nearby. I survived on benefits as life unravelled.

While friends spent their Saturday nights partying, I was trying to soothe a screaming baby. They were supportive but understandably found shopping for clothes more fun than spending time with a teary-eyed new mum stuck at home.

In public, I was terrified of being judged on account of my age, convinced I could hear the disapproving tuts of passers-by as they saw me pushing Bethany round the shops.

As months passed I plummeted into despair, feeling out of my depth and frequently bursting into tears. Looking back, I had post-natal depression, although it never occurred to me to see my GP. I saw my parents every week, but our relationship still felt strained. They didn’t criticise, but I could sense their disapproval.

My lifeline was provided by a school friend called Lee, now 34, whom I have since married. We became a couple when Bethany was a baby and went on to have two other children together, Indiana, ten, and Bernadette, six. Most men would have balked at committing to a teenage mum, but Lee, an engineer, simply viewed Bethany as his own.

Quote:Underneath the drudgery of new motherhood, my ambition remained and, at 17, I went back to college to study for a sociology and psychology GCSE to improve my career prospects, putting Bethany into the college creche while I studied.

At 18, I applied for a job as a youth worker with the local council. Asked at the interview what my greatest achievement was, I said ‘having my little girl’ and burst into tears. I suddenly realised bringing her up was something to be proud of and that the sacrifices I’d made were worth it.
Corrie (pictured with her new grandson) said she was determined her daughter Bethany wouldn’t be held back by the same mistakes she'd made

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Corrie (pictured with her new grandson) said she was determined her daughter Bethany wouldn’t be held back by the same mistakes she'd made

Earning my own money while my mother looked after Bethany gave me a further sense of achievement and, as I entered my 20s, the stigma of being a young mother faded.

I stopped hankering after a wild social life and learned to love reading and going for walks in the countryside with my daughter instead.

I marvelled at every milestone in her life, from her first steps to her nervous excitement at her first day of school. As she grew up, Bethany became a confident, engaging girl.

I was determined she wouldn’t be held back by the same mistakes I’d made, so when she was 14 and found her first boyfriend, I sat her down to talk about sex.

She blushed and fidgeted uncomfortably, but I persisted. ‘Please don’t get pregnant when you’re as young as I was,’ I said. I marched her to the family planning clinic, where I put her on the Pill. I picked up condoms, which I explained would protect her from STIs and forbade her from having sex in the house.

She did try... but... nope...

Quote:I had done everything possible to ensure she didn’t make my mistake — or so I thought. Like me, she assumed her body was impervious to nature and last November, during a row with Lee over the housework, she blurted out that she was pregnant.

I laughed and cried, hysterical with disbelief that history was repeating itself. ‘Is it true?’ I asked when I came home from work that evening. She nodded silently, her nerves palpable.

I sat in stunned silence as Bethany — who had split up with that first boyfriend a couple of months earlier — explained that she had started sleeping with a college friend.

She had regularly ‘forgotten’ to take her contraceptive pill and had taken a pregnancy test which had proved positive. I bought her another one, just to be sure.

Underneath my shock and anger was a flicker of guilt. Was Bethany subconsciously trying to mimic my own life by falling pregnant? I liked to think not, but she insisted that, like me, she wasn’t prepared to have an abortion.

Of course, I was in no position to judge. I told her it was entirely her decision and that I would support her no matter what.

I can’t pretend it was easy. I had hoped that Bethany — who was studying art at college but dropped out shortly after discovering she was pregnant — would go on to have a successful career.

I hoped she would travel and discover a world outside Askern, the small Yorkshire town where we live. I felt a period of grief for the life that she had lost.

Meanwhile, I circumvented my friends’ shock at my impending grandmother status by being defensive. ‘It’s her decision . . . there’s not a lot we can do about it now,’ I’d retort before they had a chance to pass judgment.

My OWN mother seemed more resigned than annoyed. She has come to view Bethany as much as a daughter as her granddaughter and, perhaps keen to avoid any further family rifts, was quick to pledge her support.

In the past five years the two of us have rebuilt our bridges. I realised that, as disappointed as they were I gave birth so young, my parents never stopped supporting me. The father of Bethany’s baby has said he wants to be involved, but his words have yet to materialise into actions.

I harbour no resentment — Bethany is as responsible as he is and we will be able to cope on our own.

As I accompanied Bethany to hospital scans, my shock gave way to excitement. Holding my daughter’s hand this February as the ultrasound revealed she was expecting a boy, we both burst into tears of happiness.

Bethany vetoed my suggestion of Bear in favour of the name Elijah, and plans for his arrival progressed apace. Both Bethany and I were in tears when Elijah was born last Wednesday, weighing 5lb 1oz.

The look of overwhelming love on her face as she laid eyes on her baby for the first time brought back the precious feelings I’d had for her.

Yes, Bethany will have to put her own ambitions to one side and may feel as emotionally fragile at becoming a mother as I did.
I feel no shame at either of us giving birth in our adolescence

But she is better able to cope physically with the demands of new motherhood as a teenager, as will I be, in my 30s, with the rigours of grandparenthood. Whereas older grandmothers may tire easily, I will have the energy to run around after my grandson, from his first days until his boisterous teenage years.

I can’t pretend it won’t be a financial strain accommodating another member of our family. I’m halfway through a nursing degree and our stretched household budget is the main reason Lee, who I married in July 2012, and I haven’t had any more children of our own.

But we will survive. We plan to extend our three-bedroom home with a loft conversion, but for now, Elijah shares a room with Bethany.

I feel no shame at either of us giving birth in our adolescence. A baby, no matter at what age their mother, signifies hope and new beginnings. Having mine as a teenager was the making of me — as I am sure it will be for my daughter.

That's a lot of words to say, "Whoops."

Post: #2

WB the mom while I play with the daughter's boobs.

Post: #3

A good reminder that if you make poor decisions in life, your kids probably will too.

Also, grandma apparently didn't teach her daughter to not stuff her face.

Post: #4

That's a mother and daughter? It's like 'Freaky Friday', except they swapped middle-aged spread, not minds.

Post: #5

Shit, if the progression stays on schedule. That baby will look like this in 13, 14 years.

Post: #6

I like how she said 'survived on benefits'. No bitch, you lived off other people's money comfortably, there was never a question of 'survival'.

Post: #7

My old man is on track to be a great great grandfather by 83 if trends continue. He became a great grandfather at 63

Post: #8

It's always Britain. Every story about some fucked up teenagers having kids always turns out to be Britain.

Some combination of a massive state-sponsored underclass and a press that loves to gawp at all things awful.

People like to complain here about foreign people living their lives on benefits, when really it's this kind of people: white and English (although usually with Irish grandparents/surname).

On the question of WYB: Only the mother. She's a partial survivor of an early wall, brought on by stressful lifestyle. The girl is disgusting. If you go out in the UK you usually have to deal with those kind of fat chicks throwing themselves at you. They're shameless and aggressive, obviously overcompensating for their self-inflicted ugliness. Sometimes called 'lad-ettes'.

Post: #9

Grandma looks like she's in her late 40s.

Post: #10

(06-05-2015 02:37 AM)Surreyman Wrote:  On the question of WYB: Only the mother. She's a partial survivor of an early wall, brought on by stressful lifestyle. The girl is disgusting. If you go out in the UK you usually have to deal with those kind of fat chicks throwing themselves at you.

...but doesn't she have curves?!?!?!?!!!

Post: #11

Quote:My lifeline was provided by a school friend called Lee, now 34, whom I have since married. We became a couple when Bethany was a baby and went on to have two other children together, Indiana, ten, and Bernadette, six. Most men would have balked at committing to a teenage mum, but Lee, an engineer, simply viewed Bethany as his own.

So Lee was the chump orbiting around trying to white knight a little slut. And what does he get for being her savior - a horrible mother and probably an equally bad wife. Safe bet that she would rather be in bed with the loser who knocked her up than the guy who has supported her and her bastard.

Post: #12

(06-05-2015 02:57 AM)Suits Wrote:  

(06-05-2015 02:37 AM)Surreyman Wrote:  On the question of WYB: Only the mother. She's a partial survivor of an early wall, brought on by stressful lifestyle. The girl is disgusting. If you go out in the UK you usually have to deal with those kind of fat chicks throwing themselves at you.

...but doesn't she have curves?!?!?!?!!!

Still better than her daughter's fat-rolls.

Oh yes, I'm so privileged you literally can't even.
Interested in joining the FFL? I tried (and failed).

Post: #13

It should be mandatory for identified teenage sluts to get an implanon implant, rather than the pill, since they're too careless/absent minded to take it as prescribed.

Post: #14

Good God! The daughter looks like Fiona Shrek!

Post: #15

(06-04-2015 10:17 PM)CH-Toronto Wrote:  

Holy FUCK at this skull. Such Borreby genetics.

Post: #16

The first thing I thought of when reading this was elvis





In the ghetto...

Post: #17

(06-05-2015 02:37 AM)Surreyman Wrote:  People like to complain here about foreign people living their lives on benefits, when really it's this kind of people: white and English

And this is why I am against carelessly providing benefits for these kinds of people. When providing benefits for them is only necessary because of a decision that they willingly made.

I know women who went to my high school who went out of their way to get pregnant right afterwards because they wanted to be a parent that bad.

On Facebook, they all have the attitude of "young parent and proud" and "it's my decision and doesn't affect anyone else, so don't hate".

When in reality it DOES affect everyone else, you dumb cunt. When you have a kid right out of graduation just to prove to everyone your girl power and how grown up you are, everyone else has to pay for your stupid ass decision because you get put on benefits.

Shit like that really bothers me, especially because no one will tell them that - everyone just tells them how proud of them they are.

Post: #18

Life finds a way....

And here we are complaining about low birthrates.

Post: #19

(06-05-2015 01:24 AM)Que enspastic Wrote:  My old man is on track to be a great great grandfather by 83 if trends continue. He became a great grandfather at 63

Haha, I have a female relative that recently became a great-grandmother at 55. If the trend continues, she'll probably be a great-great-grandmother by 75 and could quite possibly live long enough to be a great-great-great-grandmother by 95.

Post: #20

(06-05-2015 09:52 AM)lemko Wrote:  

Good God! The daughter looks like Fiona Shrek!

Ha ha ha, I was thinking the same thing, then I saw your post.

Post: #21

(06-05-2015 11:59 AM)Dr. Howard Wrote:  The first thing I thought of when reading this was elvis





In the ghetto...

I still sing "in the ghetto" (the cartman version) almost daily:

Post: #22

The song that came to my mind was Way Down The Line by The Offspring

http://youtu.be/8i-8Poz8VcQ (Sorry, having trouble embedding on my phone)

Quote:At 17 Shannon is pregnant
As young as her mom when she had her
Her kid is never gonna have a dad
The same old way that Shannon never had
What comes around well it goes around
Nothing changes cause it's all the same
The world you get's the one you give away
It all just happens again
Way down the line
And all the things you learn when you're a kid
You'll fuck up just like your parents did
It all just happens again
Way down the line

Post: #23

(06-05-2015 02:37 AM)Surreyman Wrote:  People like to complain here about foreign people living their lives on benefits, when really it's this kind of people: white and English (although usually with Irish grandparents/surname).

More like people are too PC to complain about immigration, they would rather point the blame at us lazy, stupid white english people. We're the ones causing all the problems.

Liberals have demonised the lower classes, so people point the finger at them rather than immigrants, just to push forward with their multicultural utopia.

You never see hard working romanian families with 15 kids, living in a council house all on benefits.. oh wait...

Post: #24

WB daughter if she dropped fitty

Post: #25

Better at 17 than 37. Realistically a woman's childbearing prime is from 16-30.