The stories of teenage mothers, 30 years later

Teenage pregnancies in the UK have been a topic of discussion for decades – this may be due to the fact that the UK still has the highest teenage pregnancy rate in Western Europe. We hear of young girls struggling, but what happens to them later in life?

by Josefine Storek Cook

Mandy thought she was ready to have a baby when she got pregnant at the age of 18. She got married to her childhood crush Richard on the 5th of June 1982. Two months after their wedding, Mandy fell pregnant with their first son, John. She was very happy about it.

Britain’s infamous teenage pregnancy rate is at its lowest level since 1969. Conception in girls under 18 has more than halved in the last 15 years. This is predominantly due to the previous Labour Government’s Teenage Pregnancy Strategy for England, which aimed to keep children in school for longer, and make sure they knew young parenthood wasn’t their only option, says Alison Hadley, director of the Teenage Pregnancy Knowledge Exchange.

Yet even though young parents are becoming more and more difficult to spot, the country still struggles to prevent and deal with one of the highest teenage pregnancy rates in Europe. According to Hadley, poor sex education, the option to drop out of school, and perhaps a certain cultural tendency to avoid “difficult conversations” could all be to blame for the statistics that are, in many ways, slowing down the progress of the country. Although it is now less prevalent, the teenage mum phenomenon is still frowned upon by many – never mind the young mum’s circumstances or background.

Research, reportage and entertainment frequently revolve around young mothers in Britain and their apparent struggle to “regain” their lost childhoods. If not shopping in the isles with baby milk formula or marching down the street with their second-hand pushchairs, we see them on popular TV. Girls look at teen mums and think “Thank God that didn’t happen to me,” because they are often portrayed as victims of their own mistakes. Though it is easy to stop and stare, not many think to wonder what really happens to the young misfit mum some 30 years after their first pregnancy.

Amanda Keane, Sarah Bowles and Ellen Gillis all had their first child as teenagers. Instead of running after boys or studying for exams, they ran after their toddlers and changed nappies. Though these three women all once identified as teenage mothers, they do not share the same experience. Brought up in different backgrounds, being put in different circumstances, and having different attitudes to teenage motherhood, they prove that being a teen mum doesn’t always only mean one thing. Meet three teen mums, 30 years later.

Amanda Keane

Born 18.2.1964

London, UK

Amanda Keane is now 55 and has three sons. When she’s not relaxing at her second house on the sunny east coast of Spain, she works in human resources and lives in a spacious flat just off Portobello Road in London with her husband Richard and third and youngest son Joshua. From her living room window, she can almost see the council estate building where she grew up with her parents and three siblings. “Our poverty was evident,” she recalls. Her family lived off benefits. Aspiring to a thriving career or progressing to further education was never encouraged or talked about at the dinner table.  “My mum never went to work when we were growing up. My dad had jobs here and there, but there were long periods of unemployment. It was tough,” she says.

As a teenager, Mandy wanted to become an actress, but her parents couldn’t afford to send her to stage school. She also thought about becoming a nun, but what she wanted most was to escape the poverty she was brought up in. “I knew when I was 16 I wanted to get out and start earning money,” she says.

Mandy’s background and urge to escape poverty by dropping out of education and rushing into work is strongly associated with stereotypical teenage mother behaviour. According to Hadley, factors such as poverty, abuse and family backgrounds play a big role in determining the fate of young women, “but staying in school and doing well in school is probably the most important” in preventing them from having children too early.

But unlike in most cases, Mandy made a conscious decision to get married young and have her first baby before hitting her 20th birthday. All due to a newfound religious influence.

“Neither of my parents were very religious. When I was nine, I decided to go to the Church of England. I enjoyed it and started going to Sunday school by myself,” she says. A year later she asked her parents to be baptised. Around the age of 12, she joined the local Pentecostal church. “I became really involved. The Youth Club took us on holidays and trips which we never had because mum and dad couldn’t afford it,” she explains.

Discovering and learning about religion lead Mandy to believe marriage and pregnancy at a young age would be the best choice for her. She doesn’t think the people around her had an influence over this decision, but she admits all of her friends got married around the age of 18. “My mother had her first at around 20 and my brother Trevor got married at 18. My brother Ian has been with his partner since he was 18,” she says.

Without a stable career or a hefty inheritance, it can be difficult for young parents to get by financially. In a number of cases, they establish a heavy reliance on the benefit system and council housing. Mandy and Richard were given help by the 1980s Sons and Daughters scheme. She says the council would give priority flats to children whose parents were born in the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea, “we got lucky and got a one bedroom council flat not long after our wedding.” With family furniture donations and her and Richard’s parents’ help with babysitting, they quickly got into a comfortable routine.

Mandy and Richard Keane’s wedding, 5th June 1982, London

Mandy and Richard’s uncle with newborn John, March 1983, London

Looking back at bringing up John as a 20-year-old, she says she has no regrets. Nevertheless, she realises now she was “far too young”. Like many young women, Mandy had a romanticised notion of pregnancy, imagining her baby was going to be “all lovely and sleep all the time.” But she says it wasn’t what she thought it would be: “It was tough. I don’t think I was really equipped to deal with that.”

Though her religious faith has prevented Mandy from having a more typical, misfortunate teenage pregnancy experience, that is not to say that religion always acts as a protective shield.

Sarah Bowles

Born 5.3.1965

Dover, UK

Sarah Bowles says she definitely wasn’t raped when she lost her virginity at the age of 18.

The 57-year-old financial advisor grew up in Dover with “very strictly religious” parents who owned a buzzing jazz pub, The Louis Armstrong. Thinking back to her teen years, she would describe herself as a devout Catholic and a good girl who knew how to party. “I was blonde, slimmer, and my father owned the most popular bar in town, so I wasn’t short of male attention. I quite liked that, but I did believe very strongly that you shouldn’t have sex before marriage,” she says.

“We started having sex and I didn’t realise it. As soon as I realised, I stopped it”

Simon was the only one of her boyfriends who didn’t know she was a Catholic. This lead to confusion when the couple first got intimate after a few months of dating. “We were basically having a kiss and a cuddle and there was a misunderstanding. Looking back, it’s ridiculous. For me, all I was doing was having a kiss and a cuddle… He must’ve thought, ‘She’s happy with this, let’s take it to the next step.’ Basically, we started having sex and I didn’t realise it. As soon as I realised, I stopped it,” she says. After some hesitation, she adds: “He did not rape me. We didn’t carry on having full blown ‘wam bam thank you mam’.” Sarah was so unaware of what was going on that she thought not enough had happened for her to get pregnant.

She believes meeting Simon was love at first sight. “He absolutely bowled me over, it was an obsession,” she says. At the time they met, she was studying maths and computing, but wanted to go into nursing. A few weeks after their sexual encounter, she had gotten a job as a nurse at The Royal Free Hospital in London. On her way to buy her uniform shoes, she picked up her pregnancy test result at the doctor’s. “I was planning to move to Hampstead within the week and I thought the test was just a formality. But they told me I was pregnant,” she says, laughing out loud at the memory.

Coming from a strictly religious family, Sarah says she was terrified of what her parents would say, so she went straight to the priest to ask for advice. He told her she must tell her parents. “My mum was very cross, my dad was really disappointed. That was really hard,” she remembers. After telling her parents, she drove around on the back of her sister’s boyfriend’s motorbike looking for Simon, “I needed to tell him as soon as possible,” she says.

Telling Simon she was pregnant is a bit unclear in Sarah’s memory, as in that moment she was still “shell-shocked” from finding out herself. But she remembers with clarity that not long after breaking the news, his non-religious family wanted her to get an abortion. “He was determined it was the only way. But for me, it simply wasn’t a possibility,” she says.

Although neither Sarah or Luke are in touch with Simon, remembering this rejection still upsets her today, 35 years later. “I never counted on him as the father, but I kind of hoped… When he said he wanted nothing to do with Luke, I said I decided I will do it all my way and won’t come to him for anything,” she says unsteadily. If Sarah could be 18 again, she says she wouldn’t necessarily do the same thing, because she thinks Simon could still be in touch with his son today if she had pursued him for money. But she stands her ground in that “it’s quite important for people to step up to their responsibility,” which is why she brought up all of her children by herself.

“It was a fumble that went wrong. But it was a very happy accident”

Though her early twenties were tough, Sarah has no regrets. “It was a fumble that went wrong. But it was a very happy accident. I don’t think it really affected my career or education. I actually think it was better this way. I was able spend more time with my children and connect with them, and now I am striving in my career,” she says. She doesn’t think her being a young mother affected Luke’s upbringing. She says that perhaps he didn’t always have the newest Nike trainers, but she always insisted he took music lessons. Rather than having Luke as a teenager, she believes what did have a negative impact on Luke was the absence of his father. “I think children really benefit from a full, extensive family,” she says.

According to data recorded by the Teenage Pregnancy Strategy, two in three mothers experience “relationship breakdown” during pregnancy or within the first three years after birth. This can lead to depression or post-natal depression in young mothers. Alison Hadley says that this has a big impact on attachment between the mum and baby. “Data seems to suggest that children born to mothers under 20 are due to have a developmental delay, particularly with speech and language around the age of two, which we know is the predictor of being ready for school and learning easily,” she says.

Though Sarah’s firstborn grew up without a father, today the 35-year-old seems to be thriving. Her investment in music classes means he found a career in sound, and now has his own sound production company. But as the statistics suggest, this isn’t the case for all children born to teenage mothers. Certainly not for Lois, the firstborn of Ellen.

Ellen Gillis

Born 30.6.1963

Newquay, UK

Ellen Gillis wasn’t aware of her pregnancy at the age of 19 until she was six months in. Nor did she know who the father of the baby was. The “Cornish bird” – as she likes to call herself – grew up on the beaches of Newquay in Cornwall, “free-spirited and raucous”. Today, the 55-year-old part-time cook lives “quite a sedate life”. She enjoys growing vegetables in her garden and spending time with her grandchildren, but as a teenager, she was far more rebellious. “I was hell, I partied a lot,” she says. At 17, she spontaneously married a sailor. Little did she know her first born would come only two years later and would not be his child.

“My husband went to Singapore for six months, so I sold the house, buggered off to London and got a job in a pizzeria because I was bored,” she remembers. Less than a year after moving to London, she started feeling unwell. “I went home because I missed the beach and roast dinner. I went to the doctors and got an ultrasound. I found out I was about six months pregnant,” she says. Though Ellen was surprised, she didn’t panic. In fact, today she finds the situation quite funny when she says “My husband was white and the partner I was with in London was Philippine – the tapestry of life!”

“It never entered my head to be scared. I’d like to think it’s because I’m a positive person, but at 19, I didn’t have a clue”

Soon after finding out about her six-month pregnancy, she moved back to her parents. She recalls when her dad asked her mother: “What are we going to do with a Ching Chong baby?” Though her parents were in shock, Ellen wasn’t fussed about the news thanks to her positive attitude. “I just thought, ‘Oh well, I’m having a baby! Let’s get on with it!’ It never entered my head to be scared. I’d like to think it’s because I’m a positive person, but at 19, I didn’t have a clue,” she says. Putting the child up for adoption wasn’t an option for Ellen, because she would never run from her own misdemeanours.

Like Sarah, Ellen never considered reaching out to the father of her baby for help. “I knew I would take care of the baby by myself,” she says. With emotional support and babysitting from her mother and close friends, Ellen returned to work in a café soon after birth, allowing her to support herself and her baby Lois financially. Ellen is proud of her commitment to work, even if it meant that the tight financial dependency didn’t allow her to invest time in finding an ambitious career. “By getting pregnant so early, I just did things for money. The idea of doing anything else never really transpired,” she says. Though this money-focused but unambitious mind-set is often considered typical of teenage mothers, Ellen’s early pregnancy story defies the statistics which show that most young mothers rely on state support. But even though her jump back into work and normal life – “I still managed to party!” – suggest smooth sailing, things didn’t go to plan when her husband, the sailor, realised Lois wasn’t his child. “It’s all quite vague… He snapped at me and wacked me around the face. He broke my cheekbone and sinus. I was black and blue. The baby was asleep when it happened,” she says. After the incident, she never saw her husband again. She divorced him and successfully closed the chapter, moving on swiftly. “Bringing up Lois? I don’t remember it being hard work,” she says with ease.

Ellen with her best friend Sarah and baby Lois, a few months after birth, 1984, Cornwall

Ellen believes strongly that “life doesn’t have to be so hard.” She doesn’t understand why some people overthink problems and “create drama unnecessarily”. “I am flippant. But there is a bright side of life, enjoy it,” she says. Though she realises this is easier said than done, she is convinced her attitude to life would help many young mothers “get over it” and move on from their misfortune faster.

Ellen’s firstborn Lois found out she was pregnant when she turned 19, creating a pattern of early pregnancies in the family. Ellen was shocked when she heard the news. “I thought she’d seen me struggle as a young mum, not being able afford certain things,” she says. According to Hadley, “previous studies show that daughters of teenage mothers were more likely to become teenage mothers themselves.” Though she says this is an old study and it is unclear whether this pattern is still the case, it is not uncommon for the daughters of young mothers to conceive as teenagers, too. On the contrary, Hadley says that anecdotally, “you’ll often find mothers who were young themselves when they had their first baby being very alert to the fact that they don’t want their daughter to do the same thing.”

Though Mandy and Ellen have experienced teenage pregnancy and motherhood themselves, they still look down on teenage mothers when they see them. Mandy thinks young girls today are “a bit ignorant” and don’t understand the importance of contraception”, but predominantly, she believes teenage pregnancies are an issue of class and economic background. “It’s not the posh educated girls that are getting pregnant, is it? It’s those that are from backgrounds where there is poverty, those at bad schools. Maybe they see getting pregnant as a way of getting out of their home or getting benefits, or a flat,” she says. Mandy does have sympathy, but is confused as to why girls “want to tie themselves down so young.”

Ellen says it’s unfortunate that she’s “a bit judgmental about teen mums.” At 55 years old, seeing them makes her realise how young they look and thinks: “oh my god, probably a bit of a waste.” On the contrary, she tries not to put all young mums in the same box. “Who is to say they’re not adventurous and having a good time, too?” she says.

These three women have different experiences, yet a pattern seems to be emerging from their stories. For Mandy, Sarah and Ellen, it’s not the idea of being pregnant at a young age that comes with disadvantages. Instead, it is the loss of control – of having to deal with a situation one did not choose. Mandy’s first two pregnancies were planned, expected, and received with joy. Her third son Joshua, however, was unplanned, and at 35 years old, she was devastated to find out she’s pregnant again. “I was getting my life back. Richard and I were getting more freedom in terms of going out and not having to call a babysitter. My career was taking off. But Josh changed it all. It was a big set-back,” she says. Though Richard and Mandy wanted to keep the baby “without question”, they both found the situation very hard to accept. For Mandy, it was easier being a mum at 19 than it was at 35. She admits, with regret, that her unwelcoming attitude to her third baby has negatively affected her relationship with him.

“It’s not the posh educated girls that are getting pregnant, is it? It’s those that are from backgrounds where there is poverty, those at bad schools”

In Ellen’s case, her worry-free attitude to life and her ability to “get on with it” – whatever it is – has made it possible for her to accept her early pregnancy and bring up Lois without a partner, fuss-free. “I wouldn’t not have Lois in a million years. She’s beautiful. How could you change that?” she says. Looking back, she says her life would probably be less exciting if she had waited longer to have her first baby.

As for Sarah, her practicality and young naivety helped her get through rough times. She didn’t choose to get pregnant with Luke – nor did she choose to have sex the night she conceived him – but she feels the disappearance of her children’s fathers was ultimately the worse part of having children. When it comes to her children, she says she “wouldn’t do it differently.”

“I could’ve brought up Luke in an estate with no money and still lived off benefits today if I wanted to. It’s what you make it”

Sarah and Ellen both prove that early pregnancies are nothing more or less than what you make of them. Sarah is empathetic towards young mums, but she recognises that many of them make their situation worse than it could be. “I could’ve brought up Luke in an estate with no money and still lived off benefits today if I wanted to. But I went to university and got a career and had two more children. It’s what you make it,” she says.

The Framework for supporting teenage mothers and young fathers by Public Health England strongly implies having children before the age of 21 is a bad idea. It lists statistics, such as that the women who were teenage mothers are 22% more likely to be living in poverty at the age of 30.

Thanks to governmental policies, Alison Hadley informs us that teenage pregnancies are becoming “much less of a visible issue. It doesn’t seem to be the norm anymore.” Though she says there are areas in the UK where it is more prevalent than in others, overall the numbers of teenage pregnancies in the UK are falling due to a doubling in young mothers in education and training in the period between 2000 and 2010.

Those uninvolved with teenage pregnancy or parenthood may look at this issue and see it simply as statistics. But Hadley reminds us that individually, “teen mums all have their own stories and lives.” Mandy, Sarah and Ellen are the living proof that not all teenage pregnancies can be put in the same box.