Whatever Happened To... the gymslip mum who went to Oxford?
Abi, graduating from Oxford, with her daughter Jasmine
Monday 27th August 2007
Do you know what makes me sick? I'll tell you. The way people can be so quick to slate teenage mothers. Free council house… sponging off the state… umpteen partners… Well, believe you me, I know from bitter experience that's not always the case.
In February 1991, aged 16, I fell pregnant by accident and was completely written off.
Everyone, including my parents, Muriel and Stephen, then 41, thought I'd ruined my life. But pregnancy had an unusual side effect on me. It made me all the more determined to prove her wrong.
And I did. Big time! In 1994, I hit the headlines when I won a place at Oxford University and took my 3-year-old daughter, Jasmine, with me. 'Gymslip Mum Goes to Oxford!' the headlines read. People were up in arms at the thought of a teenage mum going to one of the most highly respected universities in the world.
But it wasn't a shock to me. I'd always worked hard at school. I just made a mistake. At 16, I got together with my kitchen fitter boyfriend Mark, 28. The first time we slept together, the condom split and I got pregnant. Mark was brilliant.
'I'll stand by you, whatever you want,' he vowed.
But there was no way I could have an abortion. Mum was livid. 'What are you going to do?' she raged.
I knew she just wanted the best for me, but the atmosphere at home was so frosty, I moved into Mark's flat in Oldham.
But when I finished doing my GCSE exams, far from being proud of my hard work, my headteacher politely told me I couldn't come back to sit my A-levels, as it 'wasn't right for the school's image'. Pathetic. But two months later, I proved it was their loss when I got seven grade As.
Three months after that, in November, my waters broke and Jasmine arrived, weighing 9lb. She was perfect.
I still dreamt of going to uni but studies were the last thing on my mind as I disappeared under a mountain of nappies. Besides, Mark would have to take another job so we could afford childcare. Was I being selfish?
'Don't be daft,' Mark said. 'You've got brains — use them.'
So, in September 1992, when Jasmine was 10 months old, I enrolled at Oldham Sixth Form College to study four A levels. Life became a military operation. Every morning, I dropped Jasmine off at the childminders', spent the day at college, then picked her up, made tea, bathed her, put her to bed, then started on my homework.
A year on, in October 1993, I got another shock.
'You should apply to Oxford University,' my English teacher said.
A teenage mum applying for the most famous university in the world? As if!
Reluctantly, I took the entrance exam and, two months later, I couldn't believe it when I was accepted to study for a degree in English.
'We'll move,' said Mark. 'I can get another job down there.'
In that case…
'We're going to Oxford!' I screamed.
Surviving on my grant and Mark's new wage from doing up flats wasn't easy but, when I looked around at the imposing university, I had to pinch myself.
Then, in my final year, I felt broody.
'Are you sure?' Mark asked, when I told him I wanted another baby.
But I'd done it once. I knew I could do it again. Four months on, in June 1997, I graduated. As I stood there in my gown and mortarboard, I looked like any other student. The only difference was, I had 6-year-old Jasmine on my hip and a baby on the way. I'm so ridiculously proud of that photograph, it still makes me want to cry just looking at it.
We moved back to Manchester and, in January 1998, I gave birth to Connor. One child was hard but two was like studying for eight degrees — and running a marathon. Exhausting.
After a year of hard slog, I decided I wanted a career, so got a job as an accountant at Coopers and Lybrand in Manchester. Mark and I coped really well with juggling the kids and our jobs. My salary meant we could afford to make our family times extra special, with holidays in Spain.
The years sped by and, before we knew it, it was 2005 and Jasmine was preparing to sit her own exams. And I was turning 30. We had a party to celebrate. At midnight, Mark leaned in close to me. 'Don't you think it's time we got married?' he asked.
'Too right,' I smiled.
Ten months later, in August 2005, we tied the knot at Oldham Register Office. The guests of honour were Jasmine and Connor. As the four of us smiled for the cameras, I felt like I was sticking two fingers up at all those people who'd written me off.
Every week, Pick Me Up revisits someone who made the headlines in the past. Check out our other cracking go-backs:
Whatever Happened To... Britain's first ASBO mum?
Whatever happened To... The Teletubbies?
Whatever Happened To... jilted bride Marylin Woodcock?
Whatever Happened To... James Bulger's Mum?