Tracey Woolley was determined to prove everyone wrong
WORDS: EIMEAR O’HAGAN. PHOTOS: FABULOUS /THE SUN/NEWS LICENSING
People talk about the totally overwhelming love you feel, the moment you hold your newborn in your arms. And I felt that emotion after giving birth to my son Danny in 1986. He was so tiny and precious and I knew I would do everything in my power to protect him forever. But there was another overwhelming emotion creeping in. Fear. And the stark realisation that, aged just 15, I was now a mum.
I met Danny’s dad, John*, aged 14, at a party in August 1985. I was doing well at school and had a happy home life in Ongar, Essex, with my dad Eddie who ran his own business, my mum Anita, a housewife, and my older sister Toni.
John, then 17, was working as a window fitter and he drove a car, which I found exciting. He was my first boyfriend, but my parents weren’t concerned that he was three years older than me. We waited four months before having sex, and it was my first time. After that, we’d do it whenever we had the opportunity. Even though we were young, we really were in love, but foolishly, we didn’t use contraception.
I knew how babies were made – I just, naively, didn’t think it would happen to me.
Two months after I’d lost my virginity, I confided in my cousin that I was having sex, and she told my aunt. Mum was suffering with her mental health at the time so my aunt took me to the GP, who prescribed the pill.
Over the next five months, life carried on as normal, with me studying and competing for the school swimming team, and seeing John. But just before the summer holidays, I began to feel bloated and realised I’d gained some weight and had stretch marks. Assuming it was a result of going on the pill, I went back to the GP with my aunt. She asked me to lie on the bed and when she placed a monitor on my slightly swollen belly, there was a heartbeat, which I knew instantly wasn’t mine.
Totally shocked
The doctor told me she believed I was around six months along – meaning I’d fallen pregnant just before I went on the pill. I began to cry with fear and shock, as my aunt cuddled me. I couldn’t think straight – what did this mean for my life?
Back home, I was terrified of telling my parents. I was only 14 and I was devastated at the thought of disappointing them. They were deeply shocked and didn’t know what to say.
They weren’t angry though and looking back now, I’m so grateful for that. But while they agreed to support me however they could, I still felt like I’d let them down. Next, I asked John to come over, and he sat with me and my pa
