Jenn Montooth: House Baby?
At 22 years old, Jenn Montooth is accepted to graduate school just as she discovers she's pregnant.
Jenn Montooth is a public historian for the National Human Genome Research Institute where she helps with the public’s understanding of genomics and captures the history of the Human Genome Project. She received her master’s in public history from UMBC where she focused on the Black Power movement. Her articles on the Black Power movement and the history of abortion rights have been featured in the Washington Post. Most importantly, Jenn loves storytelling and is thrilled to be part of the Story Collider family. She is the executive producer of the live storytelling show Health’s Angels: Personal Stories about Women’s Health, where women can share their mental, physical, and emotional health stories. You can find more at healthsangelsdc.com. Say hi to her on Twitter @jenn_montooth.
This story originally aired on September 13, 2019 in an episode titled “Secrets.”
Story Transcript
“I am an adult.” I am saying this to my 22-year-old self over and over as I'm looking down at my graduate school acceptance letter and I'm like, “I am finally on the right track.” I am on a track, at least. It's better than none. This is going to be the first time in my life where I’m no longer a barista where the steamed milk is constantly burning my hands. For once, I don't have to work three or four jobs in college just to pay for college. I am going to be a scholar, a historian, if you will.
And then I'm going to get a real job. And then I'm going to come home at the end of the day and drink a glass of wine. That's right. Out of a glass, not a plastic LeBron James cup with a hologram doing a slam dunk. We'll have real cups in my house.
So days after this, I'm sitting with this excitement and wonder about what adulthood is going to look at. I'm 22, I'm not 15. But I also noticed, while I'm super excited, I am exhausted and I'm nauseous and my breasts are swollen. When was the last time I had my period? I can't remember, so that's a bad sign. This is pre-tracking app so I don't know.
But you know what? It doesn't matter, because I'm an adult now, remember. I'm very responsible. So I'm just going to go to the grocery store and get a pregnancy test.
Bing-bam-boom. I get to the grocery store and I'm like, “You know what? I'm already here. Let me just go get that ‘negative’ so that I can go to the thrift store afterwards and enjoy the rest of my day.”
So I'm sitting in the bathroom and that pink circle starts to slowly fill up and I see a horizontal line. Negative. I'm like, “Oh, yes, Jenn. You paranoid idiot. Of course you weren't pregnant.”
I look back down and now that I see there is a vertical line on top of the horizontal line. Positive, which is great for a GPA but bad if you do not want to be pregnant.
And I was like, “No. How could this happen to me? I don't get laid. I'm a student. I don't just go franting around.”
And this is the first guy I hooked up with in a year and look how it turned out. He was some random guy I met at a party and then he wanted me to come over and watch Bad Boys 2. Naive me, I thought that's what he wanted to do. I was pretty disappointed when that wasn't the case. But here we are.
So for some reason, it's frowned upon to stay in the Safeway bathroom forever so I have to leave. The bathroom is on the other side of the store, so I'm all the way in the back and I have to walk through. I'm paranoid that somehow everyone in the grocery store knows I'm pregnant and I'm also scared that they somehow think I stole the pregnancy test. I'm just waiting for someone to point at me go like, “We got a pregnant robber over here.”
But again, they're like hiding their kids from me.
So all this newly found maturity I had gained as an adult has quickly dissipated and now I am desperate for reassurance. And within a few hours, I tell everyone I knew I was pregnant. Horrible idea. Never do that.
You know, I should point out that I pretty much knew right away that I did not want a kid. I'm 22, I'm broke, this is the last thing I want. I want to go to school. But I'm also terrified so I'm kind of hoping for reassurance from my loved ones.
I'm hoping they'll say something like, “You know what? Just make the decision that's best for you. You're going to be fine.” But that's not the case unfortunately.
My best friend from high school was like, “What are you going to do? You know I’m like against abortion, right?”
And my family was like, “Oh, abortion, that doesn't sound like you? Maybe you should think about adoption.”
And the guy that got me pregnant called me in five-minute intervals and he was like, “Hey, Tim again. Just want to make sure you're getting that abortion. Just so you know, it's the only way I'm going to support you.”
Prince Charming. I think he's single, ladies, if you're interested. Why am I not with him right now?
And my boss at the time at the coffee shop was like, “Jenn, you are going to be a great mom just like work really hard and save your money,” which, first of all, eww. No, thank you. No. So gross.
I thought about my situation at the time. I am a barista, so I don't have money, and I'm living with a bunch of male roommates who are not exactly frat guys but they're definitely the type of guys that barge in your room on a Tuesday night and they're like, “Take a shot with us, you coward. Like stop doing your homework.”
One of them could only fall asleep if he was in the living room sleeping on the couch, listening to Mad Max at full volume. I could quote that entire movie to you right now and it's not by choice.
So their reaction when I told them I was pregnant was to look at each other and go, “House baby!”
I know. I was like, “No. Absolutely not.”
So as the shock is wearing off of all this, all of these random voices just coming at my face is very overwhelming. At this point in my life, no one is supporting me and also I don't know anyone that's had an abortion so I feel entirely alone at this point. The only way I can get through it is each night, I would go into my car and I would either drive or I would just sit there in my driveway and I would play a Simon & Garfunkel CD in my car and just cry.
This was probably, I was only pregnant about a week, but when I look back it just feels like this long time, just this haze.
And even though it sounds really sad, it felt so good to cry. I was in shock so I really wanted that emotion. I would always listen to that CD when I was PMS and needed to cry so it kind of felt like I was training up for this moment. I don't know why.
There was this particularly lyric in Kathy’s Song, I don't know if any of you know it, where they say like, “the only truth I know is you,” and that part always got me. Like in between sobs, I was like, “You're right, Paul Simon. I only know myself. You're so right.”
But that made me realize that I already knew what I wanted to do. I was just really scared. But even though I was alone in this, that meant I had to take care of it alone. So I decided, eventually, that I was going to stop crying and I was going to replace that Simon & Garfunkel CD with the self-titled Genesis album and I was going to go get that fucking abortion. Go and clap. Thank you.
You're fucking right. I got that abortion. Of course, after that, it was really hard because everyone in my life was still judgmental so I had to lie to a lot of people and say I got a miscarriage so that I didn't have to deal with their judgments. Everyone else also made me feel really guilty about my decision so even though I was relieved, I felt really guilty about it.
It took me about two years to get over that guilt and to realize that it was totally fine. But it happened in one night. My friend came into town and I knew that she was accepting and I just kind of had a feeling that she was going to take it well so I asked her to go for a walk with me in the dark so that I didn't have to face her. It's pretty much just shouting it out into the night.
I said, “I had an abortion.”
And her response was like, “Oh, yeah. I had two a few years back. My boyfriend was an asshole.”
I was like, “What?”
She's like, “Yeah, it's fine.”
Finally, I was like, “Yes! I am fine and I do not have to feel ashamed about it. In fact, I feel great.” And it was so healing and I hope I can do that for other people.
Thank you so much.