I was 19 the day I found out I was pregnant my heart sunk into my stomach. I went to the clinic because I was having horrible headaches. In New York they give girls 16 and up a pregnancy test as its procedure. The nurse then told me I was pregnant. That night I later called my boyfriend and told him the news. He was supportive of whatever my choice was. Then a few days later he said we where just 19 and couldn’t afford a child now. So that night we agreed on abortion. But deep down I wanted to keep my child but I thought I loved my boyfriend more and didn’t want to lose him. After having the abortion I broke up with him because I couldn’t look at him the same. Abortion isn’t just something you take lightly. It’s a life changing choice You and only you can make. I wake up days thinking of my child knowing I’ll never be able to hold my baby in my arms. Abortion is a horrible long term life choice.
June 22 will forever stay in my mind and in my heart. You see, that is the day I had my abortion. At the time it didn’t seem like it would be such a big life-changing thing, but it was and it is.
I was 19 and had been living with my fiancé for almost a year. I had turned my back on my Christian beliefs, my family, and my friends all in the name of “love.” His reaction to the possibility of my becoming pregnant was, “If that’s how you plan to get me to marry you, then you’re crazy!” Fortunately, I wasn’t pregnant; but a month later, I was.
This time he spoke of his undying love for me and how he wanted us to have children but how unfair it would be to “all of us” at this point. “Don’t you want our kids to have everything we can give them? All the things we never had? Lots of toys? A big house?” And then he mentioned an abortion. I was confused, afraid. I couldn’t stand the idea of disappointing my parents. Moving in with him was one thing. A child born outside of marriage would be quite something else.
I wanted to keep everyone as happy as I possibly could. According to what I could find on the subject, it was really no big deal. No real medical risk just a routine outpatient operation. I’d be home by mid-afternoon. After all, it wasn’t even a baby yet. I was never told anything about the risks, not about the pain, and certainly not about the development of the tiny human inside me.
The day came. The people were very matter-of-fact as they showed me the tube to be used in the suction procedure and “counseled” me. They drew blood, prepped me, and finally stood beside me as a strange, uncaring man took away my child. However, they weren’t there a year later to take away the pain when I would hear a baby cry and yet there was no baby. Mine was gone.
Since then I have denied it, accepted it, and hated it. I have wanted to talk about it, yet refused to discuss it. I hated myself for what I did and hated the “Right to Life” people for making me aware of it. It is shattering to find out after having an abortion that the “blob of tissue” actually had fingers and toes. I went up and down trying to deal with what I had done. I couldn’t tell anyone. Then I finally found the answer for me.
I took it all to Jesus and asked Him to forgive me and to heal me. He has brought me to this point and made me able to face it in hopes of helping someone who is where I once was.