by Haley Negron, as told on the Story Partners Podcast
Nobody can take my story away. I have lived it; I am a witness to God’s kindness, and I don’t want to keep it to myself.
Being The “Good” Kid
As a kid, I had a lot of anxiety, and I cared a lot about doing what was right and people liking me. If I was maybe whispering with a friend or doing something and they were like, “Um, Haley,”—gently, just very gently—”Um, Haley, I need you to get back on task,” tears would well up in my eyes, my heart would start racing, and I would feel so exposed and so wrong and bad that it would eat at me the rest of the day.
I was nice, sweet, and compliant, so a lot of positive things were spoken over me from all kinds of people. I think I got a lot of feedback that I was “good.” I was hungry for that kind of feedback and attention, and it was like fuel as a child. I was taken to church by my grandparents; I would say that’s probably where I was first introduced to religion and spirituality. I had this shift where I said “yes” to Jesus. I remember writing a letter home to my grandma like, “I got saved.” I remember this interesting little detail: I wrote S-A-V-E-D in different colored pencils and mailed that home to her. I was excited, and I knew that it meant something.
Meeting Aaron
I was a part of a small church that met in an elementary school. One day, Aaron’s family visited. Not many teenage boys were rolling through at that time, so he definitely stood out. It’s funny because we went to two different schools, so really the only time we would see each other was at church or if there was some kind of social event.
We exchanged numbers, and we would do the whole “I’m gonna call you” thing. We talked for hours at a time and fell asleep on the phone in the middle of the night—you know, that whole song and dance. I think what kind of sealed the deal in terms of me knowing that this was my boyfriend was when he told me he knew Hawaiian. He said something in Hawaiian, but it wasn’t really Hawaiian; it was made up, and who knows—it could have been a song lyric for all I know. I was like, “What does that mean?” and he said, “It means I have a beautiful girlfriend.” I was like, “Oh, so this is my boyfriend now.” Let’s forget that he was lying; it doesn’t matter, it worked! I think that we both just felt very safe around each other. We’d laugh and have fun; we just clicked. He was like my best friend. I felt so loved and known, and I think that I craved that so deeply.
Secret Struggles
We spent a lot of time together and talked on the phone a lot. I think we just developed a lot of emotional and relational intimacy, even being so new and young in a relationship. We would talk about the future, we would talk about getting married, and we would dream about what our future would look like together.
However, I wasn’t allowed to have a boyfriend necessarily. I was doing a lot of things, seeing him and hanging out with him, when I wasn’t supposed to be. My dad, who I stayed with, had already been very clear and stern about not seeing Aaron from a protective place—it was not personal; I think he just wanted to protect me.
Nobody knew because it was very secretive and calculated. When Aaron and I began to progressively get intimate, there was a lot of guilt and shame for both of us afterwards, always. It was always like, “Okay, let’s make a game plan: self-control, not putting ourselves in this or that situation.” But there was no real self-control. We would try with good intentions, but I distinctly remember us both genuinely feeling like, “Dang it. God, we’re disappointing you. God, we did something wrong. This is not okay.” There was just a lot of shame surrounding that for both of us and a sense of failure. We kept in touch through letters, and I have all of those saved; so many of them say, “I’m praying for us, I’m praying for you, stay strong… we failed in this way, and I feel really bad about it.” That seems really unique for a teenage boy to have that sort of care, sensitivity, and vulnerability with the Lord.
Two Lines and A Panic Attack
It was over spring break. I was sixteen and a sophomore in high school. We went to a carnival that evening. I don’t remember the ride that I was on, it may have just been a Ferris wheel, but I remember feeling a little nauseous. I asked him if he would go buy a pregnancy test on our way home, more just to quell the fear of, “What if I was?” I thought, I’m probably not, let’s just get a test to put my anxiety at ease.
I remember going into the bathroom, doing the test, and the two lines showed up. We saw it together, and I just started bawling. I immediately started crying and felt a lot of panic and shock. I don’t remember if he was upset in the same way, but I do remember being supported by him and him hugging me, holding me, and telling me it was going to be okay. Then the shock just kind of set in. My mind went to: I’m gonna have a baby. I don’t remember considering any other option. I don’t even know that I necessarily thought about the implications of being a mom, but just more: I’m gonna have a baby. I’m going to grow a baby. What does that mean? What’s that going to look like?
God Knew
Being naive kind of protects you from not even knowing what to worry about. My main concerns were more about how my body was going to change, what clothes I would wear, and whether I would have any friends. I don’t think I even knew how to process what was going to happen next.
Breaking it to my dad was such a scary thing. The reaction matched some of that fear, disappointment, and frustration. He did everything he knew how and felt was right to try to protect me, and yet he still had the rug pulled out from under him and was probably really hurt. He was just saying a lot of things, really upset. In the heat of the moment, he said, “You’re going to have an abortion.”
In that moment, my stepmom blurted out, “No.” She was a teen mom as well; she had her daughter when she was seventeen. I saw God’s advocacy for me through her and her experience. Her voice in that moment was like, “I have your back; I’m not going to let that happen.” That was probably one of the first moments when I saw God’s hand and favor in this situation.
When I first talked to Aaron’s parents after he told them, they had me come over. I remember feeling that shame and disappointment, thinking, This is your son, and now what about his future and your plans for him? My father-in-law said, “God knew this was going to happen.” That simple truth—that I didn’t catch God off guard, that He knew this was going to happen—just freed me in a matter of seconds. It was like, “Okay, God’s in this, actually.” It was like a boulder had been completely taken off my shoulders. I took a deep spiritual exhale.
The Walk of Shame
The first hurdle was letting my family know, and from there it was school. I was not going to go back to school; I was not going to show my face there. My goal over the summer was to figure out how I didn’t have to go back—surely I could be homeschooled. When I was made aware that was not the case and that I would be going back in August, I had a lot of anxiety and felt really isolated.
When I went back in August, I had a very visible bump. Maternity clothes have a way of accentuating that as well. I remember walking down the hallways looking down. I didn’t want to make eye contact because every time I did, I knew they weren’t looking at my face; they were looking at the fact that Haley was pregnant. No one saw it coming. As humans, we like juicy, shocking things.
Some of the harder thoughts that would keep me feeling shrunk and shriveled were: You’re bad, you made a mistake, and there’s no hiding it. Some of our failures are not as visible, but you can’t hide a pregnancy. I felt like other people were thinking, I know what you did. I don’t really remember involving God too much in the process because I felt like I was disappointing Him. I was hiding.
I did not want to miss school. I went to school even on the day I was being induced because I was over a week past due and didn’t want to get behind. Noel was born in November, and I came back to school in January, not pregnant. I had a face again, and people saw me differently. Some of that awkwardness was gone.
Building a Life
For Aaron and me, it was a given: we’re going to be together forever. We were just doing it out of order. At one point, we started planning a wedding, but then the idea of Aaron joining the military came up. We decided to join the Air Force and just get married at the Justice of the Peace, so we would have a certificate and medical benefits. I was seventeen, so my dad had to sign permission. Our family was there, and Noel was there.
We never circled back around to having an actual wedding; life just took off. I was completely supported by Aaron’s parents. They bought everything Noel needed and let me use their car. I think being gifted these circumstances caused me to put pressure on myself: If God has teed me up in all these kind ways, I cannot blow it. I’d better be a good mom, wife, and Christian, because I have no excuse not to.
Aaron went to basic training, and then we moved to Mississippi for his job training. I was eighteen, Noel was a year and a half, and Aaron was nineteen. For the first time, we were living on our own. I hated it at first—there was no Target, the highway was 40 miles an hour. I didn’t know how to buy groceries; I bought Oreos and Pringles. But we were forced to figure out how to be adults and a family with no other influence, and I think that really bonded us. Aaron was constant, loyal, and loved me.
A Faithful God
For the first ten years of our marriage, we knew how to “do church,” but I wouldn’t say we were super spiritual or knew much about the Gospel and what we were actually being freed from. Looking back, I see God’s hand and His faithfulness. We were not faithful to Him, but His faithfulness does not change. It’s not transactional. He carried me even though I wasn’t necessarily pursuing Him. His love for me is not based on my performance or if I’m “nailing it.”
In the course of 20 years, it’s been bumpy. Recently, a job opportunity presented itself. Taking it would mean change and disruption. One morning, I woke up with panic, thinking, What if this is the thing that finally does it in? I created fifteen scenarios of how this would end in divorce.
In God’s kindness, He cut through and said, “Look over there at the wall.” On the wall was a picture of us at the Justice of the Peace, a picture of us at prom when I was three months pregnant, a picture of Aaron and Noel serving in Mexico, and a picture of our family of five. I felt like He was saying, “Have I not been faithful and good? I have preserved your family from the moment I knitted Noel together in your womb. Trust me. Will I not continue to do it?”
Stories are important because we get to look back and see: Where was God? So many times in the Bible, we are called to remember. I want to grow in remembering God’s faithfulness in the past so that it fuels my hope for the future instead of worrying about things that haven’t even happened yet. Nobody can take my story away. I have lived it; I am a witness to God’s kindness, and I don’t want to keep it to myself.
