Tag Archives: Teen Pregancy

Anorexia, Cancer, and Sexual Dysfunction

After Jason was born I finished school and graduated with a B average, I had a job with the Bank of Commerce 2 weeks before grad and I put the past behind me; or so I thought, but as his 1st birthday approached I found it harder and harder to cope. Finally one day I broke down at work and my supervisor sent me home and told me to take stress leave and get help dealing with the issues of having a child and giving him up for adoption.

I don’t want to go into the details of my childhood here; my father and I have recently reconnected after not speaking for almost 20 years, I have no idea if he has seen my blog, my mom knows I have it but hasn’t read it but I don’t want to create problems for or with my folks. Suffice to say I carried issues from my childhood and refused to face them for many years. I would go to counseling and the minute they brought up my dad I would stop going, my mom tends to bury her head in the sand thinking what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her. But I had migraines by the age of 9, ulcers by 10 or 11 and attempted to overdose on pills and cheap red wine when I was about 13. The night I took all the pills I threw up and that is why I didn’t succeed and ended up just sleeping the whole day the next day. I know they knew I had tried to kill myself because after that the booze was locked up, the sharp knives went missing and the pills were moved but no one said anything to me.

I started to diet immediately after having Jason and ended up being anorexic from the age of about 19 until I was in my early thirties. I would weigh myself 20 or more times a day, if I was up a pound I would take diuretics, if I ate I would take laxatives, I would starve myself for days at a time and kept very accurate tabulations of my caloric intake and my daily a.m. and p.m. weight. I screwed up my metabolism so badly that I could gain 8 lbs just from eating a decent meal. My emotions could be erratic, as were my periods. I also carried with me an irrational fear that I would never have another child; that I had my one chance to have a child and blown it; then at the age of 21 my pap smear came back with cancer cells and over the course of the next 5 years I went for pap smears every 3 months and they performed various procedures in an attempt to keep the cancer under control to allow me time to have another baby.

I didn’t realize it at the time but looking back at pictures and from the attention I got from men I gather I was a fairly attractive woman, tall, slim with a big smile and witty sense of humor; I was asked out a lot and had developed a confident persona but the only thing I was confident about was my sexual prowess. I knew how to please a man, Wayne had taught me well and I used my skills to my advantage. I had several long term loving relationships but it didn’t matter what the man tried I never had an orgasm during sex; I just shut down, I felt nothing. I knew I could have orgasms, I gave them to myself all the time but whenever I got even close with a man a switch when off and I would go numb.

As insecure as I felt about my appearance I was confident in my abilities and wasn’t afraid to try new things and take a chance. I had an “it doesn’t hurt to try” attitude about most everything. When the bank sent out a notice looking for people to join the “On-Line team” (a team of up to 12 people who went from branch to branch throughout BC converting branches to an on-line banking system) I applied. That’s how old I am, I worked in banks BEFORE computers!!! Bonnie the supervisor hired me because, “I can’t believe you had the audacity to apply, you have practically none of the qualifications and will be the youngest on the team, but I like your spunk so I’ll give you a try.”

I turned 21 the week I started with the on-line team and had been dating a real estate agent from Chilliwack. He had pursued me for quite a while before I gave in and I was starting to really care for him by then; it was an exciting time in my life. We celebrated my birthday at a Greek restaurant and my real estate agent was there along with over a dozen friends. There was a table of two men sitting enjoying watching the revelers at our table and decided to send me a tray of about 8 different liquors, I was instructed to sample them all and they would buy me the one I preferred. I never back down from a challenge and did as I was told. Then I went around buying birthday kisses with pieces of birthday cake and at the end of the night I danced with the waiter and people threw plates at our feet. The dancing started because I had been making a big production of stuffing napkins down my top in order to look bigger busted, I guess the waiter had been counting the napkins and when I got to 7 he grabbed my hand and said, “Come, we are going to do the dance of the 7 napkins”. He took me out in the middle of the restaurant and started pulling napkins from my blouse, first the neck and then from between the buttons, and I stopped him and pulled the last two out myself. The whole restaurant was clapping and cheering. As we walked to his car my real estate agent said, “I thought you were shy”.

I put my furniture in storage and lived out of a suitcase for the next 10 months, it was a wonderful experience; lots of drinking and partying. Twelve of us between the ages of 21 and 34 spent the 2 months of summer in the Okanogan, I had an expense account that covered everything and I had a boyfriend at home whenever I made it back which was about every 2nd weekend. The real estate agent and I joined a motorcycle club, he was president and I was social director so we were very involved in a lot of activities like Poker Runs, fund raisers, dances etc. I wrote a monthly newsletter that went out to the membership and he and I were a “couple” in everyone’s eyes and every weekend I was home we were together.

I was good at catering to a man’s needs in every area but I didn’t take any shit from anyone either, if the guy didn’t treat me right or if he was too controlling I would give him a chance or two, voice my concerns rationally and then if nothing happened I would dump him and moved on to the next one. Once my mind was made up it was over, it was over. And that is what happened when I met Victor just as I was turning 22. After I got off the road it became apparent my real estate agent wasn’t seeing just me and told me he had plans to go on a month’s vacation with another woman. I told him that when he got back from his vacation he had better have made a decision, either he was committed to me or I was not seeing him any more. By the time he got back and had decided he was ready to commit I had met Victor and was moving to Ontario.

Victor was a French Canadian in the Armed Forces, when I told my dad he had asked me out my dad said, “There’s no way my daughter is dating a French Canadian.” I thought he was serious and then he said, “Because they fight with their feet, eat with their hands and fuck with their face and no daughter of mine is going to date one.” And he was right. Victor was charming and treated me like a lady, came to pick me up for our first date dressed in dress slacks and a sports jacket, he was very good looking, with the bluest blue eyes, a dimple in his chin, of course short hair being in the army, he had a broken nose that just added to his “bad boy” image. He wasn’t tall, about 5’10”, my height and he had a natural body builder type frame, and he just had a devilish way about him. He was a bar room brawler, every body’s buddy, lady’s man, man’s man, sensitive, romantic, and the best damn dancer I’ve seen before or since him. This man could jive with 3 women at one time and never miss a beat. He had no trouble getting women and was a little perplexed that I didn’t fall into bed with him and I think that is what kept him calling me.

The first time we had sex he did not give up until I had an orgasm. We had been dating about a month when he was transferred to the army base in Borden, Ontario and said, “If I thought you’d come I’d ask you to come with me.” And my reply had been, “If I thought you’d ask I would probably go.” So I went into work the next day and requested a transfer to our branch in Borden, thinking it could take up to a year to come through and we would just see how long this long distance relationship would last. The last day of work for him fell on a Thursday and he had plans for one last piss up with his buddies and asked me to drop by in the morning the next day and have a coffee with him before I went to work. At the bank we alternated coming in late on Friday because we were open until 6 and it was my Friday to start work at 10 am. Victor lived with Pierre; his best buddy and a real lady killer; or so he fancied himself to be anyway.

I got to their place about 8:30 and when I walked in the house I immediately noticed the woman’s shoes by the door and laughed to myself, “Oh Pierre, you got lucky again.” the house was silent except for the tsk tsk tsk of the needle on the stereo hitting the end of a record. I went over shut the stereo off and put the needle arm in the cradle. The coffee table had an empty bottle of wine on it, cigarettes stubs with bright pink lipstick on the filters and stubs of candles long since dead. In the corner was the gift I had wrapped the two nights before for my parents anniversary that we were celebrating tonight with dinner out and some dancing. I went in the kitchen and plugged in the kettle and then made me way down the hallway to wake Victor up by snuggling into bed. Pierre’s room was across the hall from Victor’s and I could see his door was open, I expected to see a woman passed out in his bed but it was empty. Victor’s bedroom door stuck so when I pushed it opened with a “thung” and my eyes scanned the room. Two near empty glasses of red wine, the empty bottle beside them on the dresser, two candles that were at the end of their life had dripped wax down the sides of the wine bottles that held them. I could see Victor’s dark hair peeking out from under the covers at the top of the bed and there was a headless lump laying beside him. I said in a sing song voice, “Victor dear, honey, I’m here”. He didn’t move but the headless lump sprang upright. Her naked massive tits flopped over the covers, her makeup smeared, hair disheveled, and with her eyes squinting she looked at me and said, “Oh fuck, the shits gonna hit the fan now.” And rolled over and went back to being a headless lump under the covers beside Victor. I gave his face a light slap and said one more time in my normal voice, “Victor I am here, wake up.” When he rolled over I knew I had better get out of there before I lost control and started wailing on him, and her.

I pulled the kettle out of the wall by throwing it the length of the house, ripped apart the gift for my folks and threw anything else I could lift and slammed the door. I left rubber in all 4 gears to the corner and up the next street. When I walked through the door to my apartment the phone was ringing and I let it, poured myself a stiff rye and water and called the bank to say I had come down with something and wouldn’t be in. the phone kept ringing and I kept ignoring it, then there was a knock at my door. I asked who it was and it was him, I told him to go away. He begged me to open the door and just talk to him for a minute. I opened the door, he looked like hell and his face was red like he’d been going down on her all night, then he reached for me and I told him to keep his hands off me and I wouldn’t talk to him until he washed his face because I knew where it had been. he looked so sorry and I was far too mad to talk so I told him to go home, give me some time and maybe I would talk to him later. After a few hours I called and said I was coming over, he had stripped his bed and was washing the bedding, had cleaned the house and was so happy to see me. He said he was sorry, got drunk and screwed up, no excuses, just that he wouldn’t do it again. I had my holidays booked, we were to be leaving in 3 days so I said I would still go on vacation with him and see how things went.

I drove back east with him, had a 2 week vacation and then flew home. The first day back at work I was told I was to start at the Borden branch on the following Monday. I panicked, what if he didn’t still want me to come? Did I love him that much? Was I prepared to make that kind of commitment? But I called him and he was thrilled. Two days later my dad walked in the bank with a goofy look on his face, and then a hand came up over the counter and it held a bouquet of flowers; it was Victor, my dad had picked him up from the airport.

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck

Jason Allen Is Born

With my suitcase in hand I was walking through the lobby of the YWCA heading for the door to wait for my ride when I heard my name being called, “Carrie, the phone for you!” I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart stopped, my mind raced, “Who knows I am here? Wayne?” I shook my head saying I didn’t want to take the call but she insisted, “I think you should take the call, you can take it right here at the desk.” I took the phone, “Hello?” I heard my dad’s voice, he was crying and said something about he had always looked forward to the day he walked me down the aisle, me wearing a white wedding dress and now that dream was shattered. Then my mother got on the phone and asked me what I wanted to do. I was thinking, ‘what do you mean what do I want to do?” I told her about the young couple, and then she said Karen wanted to talk to me. I was thinking OMG! Get me out of here. Karen got on the phone and was screaming how could I do this to her and I was thinking, “How could he do this to me.” My dad wanted me to come home, I was scared, and I said I would go home only if mom picked me up which she did. I kept thinking; “Five minutes later I would have been gone, no one would have known where I was.” I have often wondered what my life would have been like, but I went home and was sorry immediately.

I felt like a leper, like I had a red S on my forehead. While I was in my room I heard my mom crying to my dad about what were her golfing friends going to think and what was she going to tell them. I had just sat through my dad’s emotional rendition of how I broke his heart and now I can never wear white to my wedding and cheated him out of his dream to walk me down the aisle.

My mom wanted to send me away to a fictitious “aunt’s” until the baby was born, my dad insisting I stay home. My dad called the police and I had to give a statement. My dad insisted on me answering how many guys I had sex with and the cops said he didn’t need to know that, I said, “Just one”. My dad said, “Was that before or after Wayne?” Me: “Including Wayne.” My dad: “You have to tell the truth.” I said, “Just Wayne.” (Hate to burst your bubble dad but your daughter was a virgin until you shipped her off to the “safety” of trusted friends because you didn’t trust her.)

I had three maturnity tops and two pairs of pants, no point in spending money on maternity clothes for an unwanted pregnancy; the tops were actually pajama tops. It was ok I didn’t care. I went to stay with my cousin for a few weeks in summer. I got really fat. My two girlfriends stuck by me through it all, Debbie insisted on me coming with her every where she went and her boyfriend and his friends were wonderful to me, no one ever said anything nasty or gossiped, not to my knowledge. Her boyfriend lived with two other guys and their place was the party house. Stan, a big burly 6’6’ logger, Jim a short 5’ 5” stocky guy that loved to laugh and worked in the produce department of Safeway and Lionel, Debbie’s boyfriend who was the best looking of the three and him and Deb made such a great couple. She was a sexy one, with the Sally Struthers figure and a “If you got it flaunt it” attitude, long dark hair and black eyes, Lionel was just a sweetheart. Every Friday and Saturday night the party was at their house and the night would start with Elton John singing “Saturday Night’s the Night for Fighting” Stan punching the air with his fist and people dodging it. It was somebody’s birthday one night and Stan found the birthday cake in the pantry and took a big bite out of the side of it. He reminded me of a big clumsy teddy bear with his heart pinned to his chest.

Deb worked as a counselor at a dude ranch in the summers and I was going to miss her horribly. Her mom had told me I was welcome any time and the guys told me I was welcome to drop by any time I liked, but I was so terribly shy I never did. The guys called me and I did go over there a couple of times but felt uncomfortable without Debbie there. After the baby was born Elton John came to Vancouver and they all took me to the concert, Stan was punching the air with his fist and people were dodging it, we all burned our fingers on our lighters and danced all night, it was great. With them I didn’t feel like a slut, or bad, or guilty, I felt safe and loved and liked. They were my life raft in a sea of shame, guilt and fear and uncertainty.

I only saw Wayne one time after he left me at the Y, I was in Smitty’s having coffee with friends and he and Karen walked in. Yeah, she stayed with him; for a while anyway; according to him it was all my fault. My dad ran his name through Cpic and found out he was getting a large pension from the US army and they had declared him mentally incapable of holding a job or having a normal life due to his mental disability. Apparently he had worked for an old age home in Alberta prior to coming to BC and had been suspected of pushing an old guy in a wheel chair off the balcony but it was never proven.

My dad was on his motorcycle one day and saw Wayne at an intersection, he got off his bike and was walking in the direction of Wayne’s truck to tell him to get the fuck out of Dodge and Wayne through his Blazer into drive and tried to run him over. He clipped my dad and he rolled away and ended up with a dislocated thumb and bruising. Wayne left town after that, he really didn’t have much choice because he had also been screwing a couple of the other guards wives and someone was going to kill him.

He threatened to burn our house down with the family in it, nothing ever came of it but we were all nervous for a while.

I spent the whole pregnancy being ashamed, I remember one day an old couple who were both pastors came by for a visit and I was sitting in the lazy boy chair. Even though I had to go pee I didn’t move, then it came supper time and I said I wasn’t hungry, my mom finally figured it out that I didn’t want to get out of the chair because they would see I was pregnant and she told me not to worry about it. I got up out of the chair but I can’t find the words to explain the shame.

I went into labour mid September and my dad drove me to the hospital. I was in labour for days, eventually fading in and out of consciousness. My mom never came to the hospital but my dad was there often and would sit by my bed talking trying to take my mind off of the pain. I can remember it feeling like someone had a dinner plate inside me and was trying to push it out and saying to him that if I didn’t have the baby that night I was changing my mind, I wasn’t going to have it and him patted my hand and crying.

He had arranged for me to have a private room, so I wouldn’t be with all the happy new mothers and there was another teenage unwed mother in a ward so he arranged for her to be put in my room with me. She came in after me and left before me, she never saw her baby boy and left the day after he was born. For days I heard other women screaming in the delivery room, I hadn’t taken prenatal classes or anything so I was totally unprepared but I didn’t scream.

When I first came back home I had been told that if I chose to keep the baby I was not welcome to come home from the hospital so I had agreed to give the baby up for adoption on the condition I get to hold it. So my dad had made it very clear to the doctor that I was to see my baby.

I finally had him on September 19th 1975, he weighed 8 lbs 8 ozs, he was chubby, had no hair and the nurse tried to whisk him away but the doctor stopped her and said that I was to hold the baby. She started to argue that it was against the rules and he just motioned for her to give me the baby. I was so exhausted I wish I could have seen him again once I was rested a bit. But at least I got to hold him, count his fingers and toes and make sure he was ok. I had been so afraid something would be wrong with him and no one would want to adopt him but he was perfect.

The doctor patted my leg when it was all over and said, “You did really good.”

One of the nurses came to me and told me she had heard I was giving my baby up for adoption and she couldn’t have children and thought that was the most unselfish thing a person could do. one of my mom’s friends worked in the kitchen at the hospital and came by to say hi and see how I was, but for the most part my pregnancy was not acknowledged and aside from me getting huge (I weighed 207 lbs when I went into the hospital) and my mom saying we should join TOPS together, my being pregnant was never discussed.

I named him Jason Allen, (Allen was Wayne’s middle name) and signed the papers about a week later. I heard from the couple who adopted him via the social worker, that they were so happy and they thanked me very much and they would send pictures but I never received any.

The pregnancy was one of the worst times of my life and from the minute Jason was born until my son Kris was born 11 years later I prayed that some day I would get pregnant and carry a child conceived in a loving marriage so I could share the kicks to the rib cage, wear pretty maternity clothes, complain about morning sickness and swollen ankles, show off my big belly, have the man I love touch my belly and feel the baby kick and be as in awe of the whole miracle as I was. I longed for the happy ending where I would get to take the baby home and be a family.

I was back in school before the end of September, I had skipped out on a lot of classes and missed a full couple of months at the end of grade 11. My school used the semester system which meant you took ½ your courses the first semester and the other half the last semester so I had completed ½ of grade 11 and was told I wouldn’t be able to graduate when I was supposed to; I would have to take another 1/2 year of school and graduate the next year. I couldn’t do it. I begged, pleaded and said flat out the I wouldn’t graduate then because I was not coming back for 1/2 year. I talked to my school counselor and most of the teachers were very accommodating. It turned out that even though I hadn’t completed the courses in the second semester (in fact I had missed most of it) my grades were high enough in most classes that when they averaged my grades out I still had a high enough mark to pass anyway which gave me enough credits that if I didn’t take any electives in Grade 12 I would be able to combine the two grade 11 courses I needed with my grade 12 courses and graduate with the rest of my classmates.

I went back to school determined to just “get it done”, this shy kid put a wall around herself and to be honest I don’t remember very much about grade 12. I remember going back to school and being really fat, none of my clothes fit, I felt every one was talking behind my back; and they were. Let’s face it; in the 70’s it was still quite a scandal for a girl to get pregnant especially one who had never even had a boyfriend as far as anyone knew. A few people approached me and came right out and asked if it was true that I had a baby and what did I do with it. I appreciated their straight forwardness and answered their questions and the gossips I ignored.

Aside from my two good girl friends Dallas and Debbie (haha I just realized that is almost the title of a porn movie Debbie Does Dallas) any way sorry I got side tracked; I kept to myself. I went to the boy’s house on weekends and I remember some guy there one night was really drunk and said something disrespectful to me and he was taken outside and told he should apologize.

I was asked out a lot in grade 12, the first date I went on the guy picked me up and drove to the nearest dead end street, parked the car, told me to hop in the back seat and he cracked open the case of beer he had with him. When I refused to get in the back seat he got angry. When I asked him why he would assume I would just jump in the back seat and have sex with him when I didn’t even know him he said, “You had a kid right?” Stupid asshole assumed I must be crazy horny and would gladly jump his bones, he was my first and last date in grade 12. My big protector Stan was my escort for graduation and we went with Deb and Lionel. I think Stan had fallen in love with me and I probably hurt him inadvertently but when he asked me to be his girlfriend I had to say no; I knew I wasn’t ready.

I had a job working at the Bank of Commerce two weeks before graduation and had to work the day after grad so I didn’t stay late, I didn’t have the same excitement and enthusiasm as the rest of the kids, I just wanted to put it behind me and my mom was happy to accommodate; we joined TOPS (taking off pounds sensibly) together and pretended it never happened. My mom is of the mind set that if you don’t discuss a problem it doesn’t exist. That’s how she got through almost 30 years of marriage to my dad, if she didn’t acknowledge his screwing around, it didn’t exist.

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck

Starting To Show

When I told Wayne he asked me who the father was. He knew damn well I hadn’t had sex with anyone else and I said as much. Unbeknowenst to me a few weeks later he secretly got a vasectomy in hopes of proving his innocence. I don’t know if it is still this way but back then a man had to have his wife’s signature to get a vasectomy and he conned Karen into signing the consent form by telling her the surgery was to remove scar tissue.

I had 2 good girlfriends in school, one of them told every one she knew as soon as I told her I was pregnant and the other one, Debbie stuck by me through it all. They could have pulled her finger nails out and she wouldn’t have talked. Another girl I didn’t know approached me after hearing from Kathy I was pregnant, to tell me Kathy was gossiping behind my back and offered her friendship; Dallas, and her and I became the best of friends.

Initially Wayne wanted me to have an abortion but I flatly refused. After that he pretended nothing was going on and he would pick me up from school and we would screw like always until my friend’s mom said, “Carrie is going to have to tell her folks soon, I can’t believe they haven’t figured out she’s pregnant because she is really showing.” Debbie told me and within a week I was gone. I told Wayne he had to do something to help me, so we planned that he would pick me up in a couple of days.

I packed a bag and he picked me up and took me to a hotel in Vancouver. I had already checked into homes for unwed mother’s and had some names of people to talk to when I got to Vancouver. As soon as we got through the door at the hotel Wayne was on me for sex and then said he had to go, I started to really cry and he got angry with me because I was being so self centered and not thinking about how this was for him, his marriage, how my dad would kill him. I told him he should have thought about that before he screwed me and before he lied about being sterile. He gave me $50 and promised he’d be back the next day and he didn’t show up for two days. When he did show up he was very cold and we hardly said a word. He drove me over to the YWCA and paid for a room for a week, gave me another $50 and unceremoniously dumped in the lobby. He said he’d be back but I knew I was on my own.

That night some guy I met on the street bought me dinner, I think he thought I was a hooker until he talked to me and then felt bad and bought me dinner and took me back to the Y and told me to go home.

He didn’t know my dad, there was no way I was going home, I’d get beat for sure. I didn’t sleep much that night, I remember being so scared and lonely in a bare room with a desk built into the wall and single bed, I had to share the bathroom and tried to do that as little as possible. The next day I went to visit a couple of homes for unwed mothers, one was run by the Salvation Army and the other one by nuns. They were both very friendly but I couldn’t see myself in either one. I was so shy, painfully shy, I just couldn’t live with all these girls, I went back to my room to think. A few days had gone by and I was out of money, the taxi fare had eaten up most of it.

There was a bulletin board in the lobby of the Y and I absentmindedly was looking it over when I notice a 3×5 card.
“Young professional couple looking for live in nanny for their 2 yr old little boy.
Room, board, and some cash in exchange for light house keeping, occasional food preparation and caring for our son, unwed mothers ok.”

There was a number, so I called. I talked to a woman and we made plans that her husband would pick me up the next day and bring me to the house. He was a very nice fellow but I was so nervous, I had no idea where we were going, I know now that it must have been North Vancouver because we went through Stanley Park, as far as I knew he was taking me into the forest to rape and kill me, but we got to a very nice house and the woman was very welcoming and sweet, she showed me a small but very welcoming bedroom that would be mine and the rest of the house. Then we sat at the kitchen table and talked about me, them and their expectations. I was 9 years older than my little brother and had cared for him like a mother since he was born; so caring for a young child was nothing new to me and I had prepared the family supper every night since I was 9 or 10 so that wasn’t an issue.
They liked me, I think they could tell I was just a scared kid who had no where to go and not into drugs or partying and I was healthy. They asked if I had considered giving up my baby for adoption and that their little boy was adopted and how much they loved him and what a blessing he was in their life. Then they told me that what they had hoped was that they would find an unwed teenage mother who would live with them and care for their little boy and they would take care of all her needs until the baby was born and then they would adopt the baby. Up until this point I had always thought I would keep the baby but the more I thought about it the more it seemed like the right thing to do. I said I had to think about it and they said that was fine and to call them with my decision in a couple of days. The next day I had just enough money to make a phone call so I called them and said I would do it and we made plans for them to pick me up in a couple of hours.

I went up to my room and packed what few possessions I had and went down to the lobby to wait for them.

At home my parents had read my letter saying I was pregnant and had gone away, it didn’t say who the father was or where I had gone. Immediately my dad went to see poor Sam again, who of course had not seen or talked to me since my dad threatened his life the first time. My mom called my girlfriends and although they knew I was pregnant, no one, not even Debbie knew where I was. Then they called Wayne and Karen to see if they had any idea where I might go or who the father was.

Posted by Carrie the Lady Witha Truck