Brodee Hampton, 18, from Dapto, NSW, shares her true life story:
I stared at the double blue line and fought back tears.
“Oh my God,” I gulped in disbelief.
My older sister, Brittany, wrapped her arms around me.
“It’s okay, sis,” she soothed. “We’ll be mums together.”
Brittany, 22, was already six months’ pregnant, but that was no consolation.
I was only 17 and in my final year of high school – this wasn’t meant to happen.
I’d been planning on finishing school and enrolling in a childcare course.
Now, I had to prepare for motherhood.
When Mum came home, I broke the news to her.
Too stunned to reply, she could only cry.
I had to take the next week off school to deal with what was going on.
“I’m sick,” I told friends when they called to ask where I was.
But I eventually worked up the courage to tell a couple of close mates.
I had no bump, but before long, the whole school knew.
“You’re disgusting!” some of the students spat on my return.
I didn’t let myself cry in front of them.
But back home, I unleashed a tidal wave of tears.
“This wasn’t meant to happen”
How was I going to do this? I’d always loved kids, but would I be a good mother?
Luckily, I had Mum and Brittany for support.
“Don’t listen to what other people say,” Mum told me.
When I reached 15 weeks, I found out my bub was a boy.
Brittany was having a girl, so we spent our days buying pink and blue clothes.
At 20 weeks, I went back for another ultrasound.
“Your baby has a blockage in his bowel,” the doctor said.
He would need to have surgery straight after birth. I was terrified I was going to lose him.
“I’m afraid that’s not all that’s wrong,” the doctor continued. “He also has Down Syndrome.”
I’d heard of it, but wasn’t sure what it meant.
My whole body froze as the doctor told me how he’d have an intellectual disability, delayed development and distinct facial features.
He’d probably end up living with me all his life.
“You should consider having an abortion,” he finished.
Something inside me snapped.
What sort of parent would that make me?
Me during my pregnancy.
“He deserves to live,” I insisted.
Nothing was going to sway my decision.
Afterwards, I found a Facebook support group for mums of kids with Down syndrome.
The more I spoke to them, the more confident I felt.
Many of their children were leading active lives, and I was sure my son would too.
When Brittany gave birth to her little girl, Ellah, I felt butterflies in my tummy.
In a few months, it’d be me.
I managed to finish school and graduate with the rest of the class.
Now all that was left was the school formal in a couple of weeks’ time.
It was the end of one chapter of my life, and in one month a whole new one was about to begin.
But sitting at the dinner table with Mum one night, I doubled over in pain.
“I think it’s happening!” I cried.
Mum rushed me straight to hospital where my waters broke.
In no time at all, I was in the bed being told how to deliver my baby.
Within minutes baby Elijah was born.
From the second I saw him, I knew he was fine.
“I’m so sorry,” I said as I cuddled him and wondered why I’d ever been so scared.
Me, with newborn Elijah and Mum.
It was a brief moment of bonding before he was whisked away to NICU for surgery.
Luckily, the surgery went smoothly and being a mum came easier than I thought it would.
Elijah was soon sleeping well so I usually got a few hours of shut-eye each night.
A few days later, I saw friends posting about the formal on Facebook. School seemed a lifetime ago – I’d almost forgotten the formal entirely.
“Why don’t you go?” Mum suggested. “It would be good for you to have a night out.”
“I’m not leaving Elijah in the hospital alone,” I said stubbornly.
But Mum wouldn’t give up on the idea.
She pulled out the one-shoulder gown I’d worn to her wedding the year before and Brittany offered to do my hair and make-up.
I didn’t feel up to going to the formal itself, but eventually I agreed to go to the nearby lighthouse with Brittany to pose for some pictures.
Afterwards she drove me back to the hospital.
“I’ll just get changed,” I said.
“No!” she said abruptly. “After we see Elijah.”
Me and my handsome date.
Walking into the NICU feeling ridiculously over-dressed I gasped in shock.
There was Mum, holding Elijah who was wearing a mini-tuxedo and clutching a chocolate rose.
“Your date was worried you’d stood him up,” she grinned.
My heart melted instantly.
Nurses gathered around to swoon over Elijah.
“He’s a damn fine-looking man,” one laughed.
Scooping Elijah up into a hug, I kissed him.
“Thank you for being my date,” I whispered.
I couldn’t attend the formal, but now an even better celebration had come to me!
Swaying him in my arms, I imagined being on the dance floor, but that wasn’t what I wanted – all that mattered now was being with my son.
After 22 days in hospital, Elijah was allowed back home.
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Elijah is the biggest blessing.
He’s doing really well and is trying to crawl.
In fact, many people don’t even know that he has Down syndrome.
It still makes me so angry to think that a doctor wanted me to terminate my pregnancy.
As soon as I’m able to, I’ll start studying so I can work as a teacher for children with disabilities.
Becoming a mum at 17 wasn’t part of my plan, but I wouldn’t swap Elijah for anything.
