I was coerced by my (then) boyfriend who I had been living with as a wife for almost four years. We were ‘in love’ (or at least I was and thought he was too). When I became pregnant, our relationship changed. I went from expecting support, marriage, and a life together to receiving a ‘cold response’ and pressure to get an abortion—which I strongly resisted. Unfortunately, the pressure increased to the point he threatened to end the relationship, leave me, and make me homeless. I still resisted, but he was controlling and had managed to isolate me into a position where I had no family or friends and trusted him alone. I believed him when he feigned an emotional breakdown because of what I ‘was doing to him.’ I was torn inside but believed his lies as I was young and naive. As he manipulated me further, he introduced marriage to my delight as a ‘guarantee’ he loved me. What he failed to say was that it was a deception to bring in the abortion as I was now so happy he wanted to marry me. It took the edge off of the abortion he was trying to push on me, and I was persistent it wouldn’t happen. He even had a change of heart in a holiday to France where he accepted the pregnancy, so I thought the nightmare abortion agenda had gone away. However, on our return he said I had to get an abortion, and as we were getting married, we could have children soon. Why not now? He said he wasn’t ready and made loads of excuses and started putting more pressure on me. Looking back, I was in danger with him and needed help and support elsewhere, but there was no one to turn to.
Sadly, he persisted and drove me to a clinic by the sea as though we were going on holiday. I went silent as my soul was in torment. I loved him and believed him, but my body was preparing for motherhood, and I accepted and welcomed that. The road to abortion was pressured, blackmailing and emotionally-manipulative, but I could not see it then. I felt it but could not see it for what it was. I know now that no true marriage proposal EVER comes with a condition like abortion.
We travelled the day before, and I was numb and silent—in ‘disbelief.’ Two doctors had to examine me and manhandled my womb as though I had a cancer inside instead of my precious child. I felt violated by the probing and prodding and was only 12 weeks pregnant but treated my baby with dignity and respect, which the doctor examining me didn’t. The second doctor certified the baby as posing a mental health risk to me—a lie—a breach of the abortion law, thinking he was doing me a favour. I said I was fine with having this baby and wanted it, but he hushed me up. When I came out, I told my boyfriend, but all he wanted was ‘the problem’ ‘gone away.’ I remember looking around the waiting room at heavily pregnant women and feeling a sense of disgust they were murdering their children but somehow didn’t seem to fully engage that I was doing the same as I was fairly flat stomached
On the day of the abortion, I broke down several times to his increasing anger. His rage was uncontrollable as I refused to go into the clinic. He physically threatened me and hammered his fists on the dashboard of the car as I refused to get out. I ended up pleading with him and then sobbing that I would go in but my body took over and my legs went to jelly as I opened the car door. I fell into the gutter in a heap and he drove off at speed. I had £200, the abortion ‘blood money’ on me, and contemplated running away but to where? I wanted to go home, but home was with him and he was so angry and I anticipated violence if I did not go through with it. I thought that at the lowest point in my life—on that floor, I needed to ‘grow up’ and ‘face life’ as I ‘pulled myself together’, feeling I had no choice and walked towards the clinic. I was pulled inside as protesters were outside. I should have asked them for help to escape, but huge doors were locked and chained behind me. We were locked in!
Inside, I wept uncontrollably as I handed over the money and harsh staff separated me from everyone else and put me in a room of my own upstairs. I asked for counselling and a kind matron came and held my hands and told me I was ‘doing the right thing.’ I said ‘No, I’m not. I want this baby,’ but she said it was nerves and to lie down.
The place humiliated women at every opportunity. I had a gown—wide open at the back showing my backside as I was marched down 300 or so steps to the basement ‘killing room.’ I felt defiant and angry that this was happening to me. Two staff were behind me, herding me like cattle. I felt degraded. I was half naked, and I had a ‘moment of empowerment’ on the way down as I had seen this in a film. It was a Nazi concentration camp film I saw where the women were marched naked by the guards with their children towards the gas chambers. I suddenly realised and had a huge feeling of guilt and distress that I was not going to die, just my child. I honestly believe that had I been going to die myself, I would have been willing to go through with it, but I made a decision to call my mother to collect me and to tell her everything.
As I went into the little room to be sedated I told them I had changed my mind and I wanted them to call my mother. I refused to lie on the black plastic bed but sat on the edge and was pushed down by a large matron who told a young doctor to inject me. I told him not to and that I would sue them if they touched me and suddenly all the staff started to panic. I saw fear in the young, blonde anesthetist’s eyes as I threatened him again and asked for his help to leave. The large matron said it was ‘too late’, ‘she has already signed the papers’ and urged him to inject me but he couldn’t and was in shock. The matron took over and ordered me to be strapped up and my wrists and ankles were strapped up as I lie screaming for my mother and pleading for my baby’s life. I swore at the nurse to my left and asked why she couldn’t look me in the eye. I called them all murderers. I was unable to move but remember being wheeled into the theatre and hearing the instruments that killed my child. I was pushed into a room with 12 beds or so and I remember coming round and screaming. I didn’t want them to take my baby away and wanted to call my mother, but the matron appeared and smugly said it was ‘over,’ ‘too late,’ ‘get her out of here, she’s upsetting everyone.’
I was uncontrollable and a cleaner came into my room, closed the door behind her and hugged me like a baby saying, ‘they all feel like this,’ and cried with me. My baby was gone. I suffered a lifetime of grief and trauma and a poor relationship as a result. I still married him and made the best of things, and we have three beautiful sons—all grown up. My husband has suffered a lifetime of guilt and shame for his part and has never fully related to our children. God has given him illness and incapacity and he has been bedridden for the past two years. I feel it is God’s punishment as he has never admitted his true sorrow and has tried to bury everything and make me suffer alone. It has divided us. He made me choose him or the child when I wanted to choose both. He made a divide in our life, and that prevents him being fully into fatherhood now.
If anyone out there is in my situation do this one thing. GO SOMEPLACE YOU CAN BE ON YOUR OWN. FIND SAFETY, SEEK HELP, NURTURE YOUR PREGNANCY, HAVD YOUR CHILD. You are NEVER ALONE. There IS HELP out there. REACH OUT and DON’T DO SOMETHING YOU WILL STAIN YOUR SOUL WITH FOREVER, SOMETHING YOU WILL TEAR YOUR HEART APART WITH, AND TEAR YOUR LIFE DOWN.
On July 16th, it will be two years. It was hideous then, and it’s still as horrid now. It’s an experience I never thought I’d go through, a decision I never thought I’d make, and something that will always and forever follow me. When I found out I was pregnant, it was completely unexpected as I didn’t think I was able to conceive due to my hormone replacement therapy. It took me a while to figure out that my symptoms could be pregnancy, and longer to figure out how far into it I potentially was. It turned out that I was more than halfway through the first trimester. After I had dipped that test, and sat there waiting for the result to show up, and saw that it was positive, I placed it on the radiator, and that’s where it stayed the entire weekend. I couldn’t go back and look again.
The next day I went to a convention with friends. I suddenly felt pregnant. All the symptoms made sense, and it was like they had intensified over night. I’d been nauseous for a couple weeks. Headaches and lethargy were frequent annoyances. That weekend I struggled to get through the day, absolutely panicked inside feeling like my body had been taken over by this pregnancy. I hadn’t processed it all yet but had to continue to smile and pretend all was well with 98% of the people there. My best friend and sponsor both knew but weren’t around as much as I needed them to be. Ironically, I had a human inside of me yet had never felt so alone.
I returned home and told my partner who was very supportive but was quite difficult to have a deep and meaningful conversation with about it all. We disagreed on the reality of the pregnancy. His view was that at 7 weeks, “it was just a bunch of cells.” I was in fact mode, believing that it was a growing fetus with a heartbeat and a soul. If left alone, it would come out of me as a full human being in seven months time. It was not cells to me; it was a baby.
It could be someone, and that someone would be mine. It was wild and confusing. Hormones, feelings, and fears were coming at me like a relentless storm. I didn’t know how to truly handle it all, make sense of it all, and somehow figure out what my plan was. I had no idea what to do for the best. I was stuck between what is best for the baby, what is best for me, what is best for the future, and then I’d come back to the reality that this was less about me and more about the baby that needed me to do the right thing. Whatever that was.
I made lots of lists of different scenarios with pros and cons of abortion or pregnancy. Big factors were on the pros of abortion list:
I knew I had several health conditions that the baby would have the genetic make up for, or be at risk of having these conditions: mental illness, chronic diseases, and I was a recovering drug addict only a few months clean. I also had cervical damage and HIV that were a result of rape during my substance misuse. AND. Just to add fuel to the fire, both myself and my partner had Type 1 Diabetes.
The pregnancy would be high risk. What would be passed down to the baby was a concern, and as a transgender man, carrying my own baby to full term would have been a journey of exhausting advocating, emotional distress, social humiliation, and what seemed like inevitable trauma for me. I also couldn’t know for certain that having a parent in recovery wouldn’t at some point end in the child having a very traumatic story themselves, and I did not want that for them. I chose abortion and it hurt my heart before the abortion had even begun.
I attended an appointment at a specialist clinic which had experience with assigned-female-at-birth transgender patients and pregnancy. There they drew blood and asked me questions and spoke through the abortion procedures and my options—and asked if I was sure that I didn’t want to continue the pregnancy. What else are you supposed to say? Yes is what I said. I went back a week later. The wait seemed like forever! It was almost impossible by this point to ignore the fact that there was a baby growing inside of me, zapping my resources and depleting my energy. Not only physically was the baby’s presence palpable, mentally it was all I could think about. When I finally attended the appointment, I was terrified.
They proceeded to do a second dating scan, which they did with no audible sound. The picture on the screen couldn’t easily be seen if I turned my head away or closed my eyes. It took what felt like an eternity—like time had slowed down or stopped completely. I suddenly had the realization—a panic of sorts—and thought to myself, “I’m never going to see this baby that’s inside of me,” so I opened my eyes and looked tentatively at the screen. It took me a couple of seconds to adjust my eyes and figure out what was what, and then I saw it. The baby’s heart beat flickering. I quickly relaxed my head back again and closed my eyes as if that didn’t happen and decided to just ‘leave the room’ in my head and pretend I was somewhere else. Looking back, I’m so grateful that I looked at the screen and saw my baby inside of me.
I was given the first dose of medication and sent home with the rest: six Misoprostol for my at home abortion. I was also prescribed two strong pain medications and was supplied with the biggest pads I’ve ever seen in my life. I was told everything I needed to know, expect, and do. I went home as prepared as I’d ever be. We watched Doctor Strange and ate pizza. Then, at precisely 48 hours after my first dose, my partner placed the dose of four Misoprostal deep into my vagina as we had been instructed to do. The baby had already ceased living at this point. Now we just had to get it out with a contracting, labor/miscarriage-like passing of the baby. A beautifully formed baby that was the size of a cashew nut, or a raspberry, or an olive. I knew that at 9 weeks and 4 days gestation, I would definitely be feeling something coming out of me. This wouldn’t be “just” a heavy period with bad cramps.
I had mild cramps and back pain for the first couple of hours. Then, after the third dose of two Misoprostal it suddenly stepped up to a whole new level. It was agony. It was a radiating deep pain I’d never experienced before. It got worse and worse, and I began bleeding like a period would look like. I carried on contracting and cramping. I had decided in advance that when I felt close, that I would pass the baby into the toilet, and when the pain began to feel unbearable, on the toilet was where I sat. My partner sat cross legged on the floor by the bathtub and he distracted me as we waited until it was over. I never expected to feel the sensation I did as the fetus passed. It was nothing like I’d ever experienced before, and it wasn’t over yet.
I wasn’t prepared for what I saw in the toilet as I stood and turned around. I suddenly had a tsunami of all the feelings I’d been suppressing to hold myself together. I couldn't bring myself to flush the toilet. My partner had to do it after I’d left the room. It’s been almost two years now and I still remember it vividly. There’s a quote, “Grief is like the ocean: it's deep and dark and bigger than all of us. And pain is like a thief in the night. Quiet. Persistent. Unfair. Diminished by time and faith and love.” The grief comes in waves. Some days I just want to go back and linger in the magic of being pregnant again. Others I’m overwhelmed by the what ifs and the if only. Then there are days where I’m plagued by the emotional baggage and haunted by the loss.
I made my decision. It was the right decision at the time. I made it with all the knowledge and experience I had in my arsenal. If I’d known then what I know now, things may have been different. The truth is though, that abortion isn’t the easy option; it isn’t the get out of jail free card. It’s heavy, oh so heavy, and you have to carry it for the rest of your life; at least that’s been my experience. I chose to end my pregnancy, yet the loss I feel is just the same. People often don’t understand the trauma. They don’t have the same grace or empathy for your loss like they would someone who had miscarried. It’s the same, but different.
I had to work really hard learning to frame what happened in a healthy way. I’ve had to acknowledge the existence of the baby I carried inside of me for over two months. I had to make sure they knew they mattered even though they never made it “earthside” out of the womb. They were loved, and I miss them even though we never really met. I had to really focus on my mental health in order to prevent this from breaking me. I eventually decided to get a tattoo that would mark their existence and connect them with my body forever. The tattoo reads, “Nine weeks inside. Jeremiah One Five.” In the Torah, Jeremiah 1:5 says, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart.” It has been comforting to know and believe that God says such beautiful things about a child he created inside of me. That’s how special they were to Him. I wholeheartedly believe that God knows the turmoil I had in my heart. I know that as I let go of my baby, God was there to catch them. Their soul reunited with Him as it left its body here on earth.
Abortion is hard. It does not matter who you are. What support you have or don’t have. It is going to undoubtedly be one of the hardest things you will ever do, and there’s never a happy ending with it. It’s always fundamentally full of grief, pain, and loss. A void sticks around like an unwelcome guest. The hope I offer you though is that with therapy, time, faith, and love it does get easier. That grief and pain is diminished. It’s less persistent, more predictable, and more manageable, but it never ever goes away completely.
I was 17 years old with a long-term boyfriend when I found out I was pregnant. Up until then I had been told it was not yet a baby until much later in the pregnancy, and I believed it—although something didn’t sit right with me about that story. I went ahead and had an abortion and never once considered going through with the pregnancy. But once it was over, I immediately knew what I had really done and had a very, very deep sorrow that has never gone away. That was 30 years ago. For some reason, I always thought of that baby as a baby boy and for about 18 years I counted how old he would’ve been on each birthday if I would have had the courage to allow him to live. I knew his approximate birthday because I had been given a “due date” at the clinic. I still think about that date every year. I went on to have three boys who are the joy of my life, but in my heart I know there would have been, and should have been, four. I still apologize to him every time I pray and tell him I can’t wait to meet him in the next life, that his mother loves him deeply, that he is precious, and that I can never apologize enough for my choice. My heart will always be broken for my first child that wasn’t given the chance to live. And I’ll never forgive myself.
I was 19 years old and in love. In my mind, he was my soulmate. I got pregnant and when I told him, he said he didn't remember ejaculating. At that moment I knew that even If I decided not to do the abortion, I'd be a single parent, which I couldn't handle. I went to the hospital and got an appointment for the upcoming week. I went there that week and got the procedure done. Months after doing so, I got depressed and life stopped making sense. I used to—and still do—beat myself up about it. A year later, I'm still trying to heal.
Age: 20
Location: Johannesburg
Date: February 24, 2024
I got pregnant for the first time at the age of 37 with a man who I was in a new relationship with. I had always wanted to be a mom, but I always found myself in one bad relationship after another. With this man, though, I felt like I had finally met my match, so we were careless about using protection. Two days before confirming that I was pregnant with a home pregnancy test, my boyfriend confessed to me that he had cheated on me. I was devastated to say the least. After finding out that I was pregnant two days later, I told him the news, and he turned into a different person. We had already agreed to give each other space, but it still felt like there was hope to save our relationship.
Now, though, everything was different. In the days that followed, he turned from the sweet guy I once knew into a bitter, angry, and downright mean-spirited person. He used these methods to try and convince me to have an abortion, and when that didn't work, he started messing with my head while my hormones were all over the place. He used every manipulation tactic in the book. He turned back into that sweet guy and said that we'll try again when the time is right, that maybe we should just get some information from Planned Parenthood, etc.
I made the appointment at PP and had a week to think it over. The only family member I talked to about it was my sister, who was the only voice of reason, telling me that I would probably regret it. My judgement was so clouded and I could only see bad scenarios play out when I thought of the future if I had this baby. When I finally went to the appointment, I was so conflicted that it took me three hours to ultimately decide. It was as if I had a devil and an angel on my shoulder, and the devil won. I was only six weeks along, so I was able to take a pill and then sent home with four more to take the next day. BY THE WAY, if you take only the first pill and decide to change your mind, there is a pill you can get that reverses the effects of the first pill (not sure where, but you can find out online).
After taking the four pills the next day, I experienced the worst physical pain of my life, and that was with extra strength painkillers. I started bleeding about an hour or two later, and experienced bleeding with clots for about three weeks straight. I even saw the pregnancy sack come out one day in the bathroom, and that image is forever etched in my brain.
It is now over a year later, and I still have crying fits about it. I wish I had kept my baby. The truth is, I could have made it work. Yeah, I'd be a single mom, but there's plenty of resources out there for us. I am enough for my baby. Even if you are with the wrong man, remember, YOU are the RIGHT person for your baby. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise. You are who your baby needs. If you're on this site, and made it this far reading, keep your baby. The regret is very, very real. I wouldn't wish this feeling on my worst enemy. Your baby is a blessing and needs you.
I feel like it would've been a girl. I gave her a name—Isabella. I sometimes write her letters and talk out loud to her. Not a day goes by where I don't think about what could've been. She should be here with me earth side. This decision is my biggest regret. Please don't be like me. Choose life; choose your baby. You can do this. All my love to those who are reading this.
Age: 38
Location: Staten Island
Date: September 14, 2023
I had only been dating my boyfriend for six months when I got pregnant. I was 23; he was 26. He was the first and only person I had ever been with, and our relationship was very unhealthy and toxic. I never once considered abortion. it was never an option for me. I value life, every life, and think even if someone’s life is difficult and fraught with hardship it is immeasurable in value. My boyfriend, however, thought otherwise. I found out I was pregnant at just three weeks and he spent the next six weeks degrading me, intimidating me with talk of lawyers and lawsuits, breaking my heart, manipulating me, calling me names like "sleazy" and "disgusting," telling me I would be a horrible mother and never have the life I want, and promising me that he would not give child support but spend all of his money fighting for custody. I chose to have an abortion out of fear and emotional exhaustion. I didn’t have money for lawyers and I was so distraught and hurt by everything he said that I could not think rationally or see that no judge would grant him custody. He even discouraged me from adoption saying it’s the most selfish thing you can do, because adopted kids hate their biological parents. I was so attached to my baby. She even had a name. Isabelle. It’s been a little over a year and I still cry every day in disbelief and unimaginable grief because she is not here in my arms. The level of sadness and anger I feel at my decision and the coercion that got me there has driven me to do dangerous and reckless things. If it were not for God I would not still be alive. Nothing could have prepared me for the anguish of exterminating my own precious child. Forever she will be missed and grieved. I refuse to grieve her silently, as she was silently forced out of this world.
I had an abortion 34 years ago. I did struggle with it from time to time, but it seemed after the years had passed that it didn’t really bother me anymore. What the mind forgets, the heart holds onto. Little did I know there would come a time when it would hit me like a ton of bricks.
I was 18 at the time I had the abortion. Dumped by my abusive boyfriend, I moved out of my hometown to another state and in with family. They were really indifferent about the situation. Me, well, I had no idea what I would do. Scared, alone and confused.
I remember the day I was dropped off in the parking lot of the clinic. People with signs screaming at me calling me a “Murderer.” What a way to add insult to injury! I received paperwork—paid $500 in cash—and spoke with a woman who seemed so caring. She went over the "procedure" as she called it. Advising me they would insert a tube-like structure into my vagina. It would be slightly uncomfortable, and I would hear some suction noise. This would be due to the doctor removing THE TISSUE. Afterwards, I would recover for a while and then go home.
Before the “Procedure.“ I was given a gown to change into. I went and sat in a row of seats. I was given a pill to help me relax. One by one the seats were filled with girls, each one also given a pill. There was silence in this room, and it looked much like an assembly line. I could feel the angst. I could see the fear and also the tears in the faces of some of these girls. I tried to not let my emotions show, but on the inside I was frightened and sick to my stomach.
I have always avoided the topic of abortion until Roe v Wade was overturned. What I had done 34 years ago suddenly crushed me.
There was a godly sorrow that came upon me, and it was time I dealt with what I had buried deep inside. I have gone through the healing process, but I will always have to deal with the consequences. it still stings and brings tears to my eyes knowing the truth of what was inside of my womb. I destroyed a life.
There is a demonic agenda driving Planned Parenthood. I stand firmly against abortion and pray for the rights of the unborn and for all women who have had an abortion or who think that is their only option.
It's been a little over two years since my abortion. I still think about it every day. I didn't know what to do, so my boyfriend made the decision for me. It was the biggest mistake of my life.
I am a fifteen year old girl and found out I was pregnant during school. Seeing my ex-boyfriend that same day and not having the guts to tell him genuinely killed me inside. He found out and was nice about it until I told him I wanted to keep it. He shunned me for it and told me he ‘wasn't ready,’ although he'd also told me to come off the pill as he wanted me to have his baby. So I got the abortion for him. He told me he would support me and be there for me, but as the days came closer, he didn’t show. Since the abortion, he makes comments to me about our child and about how I got the abortion, although I did it for him.
HAVE YOUR BABY. If you are pregnant, IT IS MEANT TO BE.
I got pregnant for the first time at 30 by a man who was the worst, just a total jerk--a guy I knew if I had my baby with would tell my kid terrible things about me. That is why I got an abortion, because I couldn't stand a lifetime link to that man. But the reality is you can raise your child to be a good person. With the love you provide there will be a way for you and your child to survive and thrive.
Do not base your decision on he mistake of a man who turned out to be crap.
I instantly regretted my abortion when I woke up at the clinic. I sobbed to the nurses that I had made a mistake. I thought I was doing what was best for my baby. I knew without a doubt I had made the wrong decision. I pictured what happened. My baby's limbs were ripped apart and pulled out of me. I murdered my child.
I am up now at 3 am crying about what happened three years ago. I may never be a mother. Now I feel I do not deserve to be. I let someone rip my baby apart inside of me.
Please, please have your child. You can do it, even if you are alone. If it happened, it is so very meant to be. Raise your baby into an amazing, good person that the world so sorely needs.
You will regret an abortion if you are not a heartless person. I tried to rationalize it. I thought it was an educated decision to do what I did, but it was not. I will NEVER forgive myself for what I did. Please don't make the same mistake. I love you. You can do this. Being a mother is such an amazing purpose. YOU CAN DO THIS!
I lived in Cuba when I began having sex at the age of 15. My first abortion was at that same age, and it was a horrifying experience. I was supposedly 12-14 weeks pregnant. They called it menstrual regulation. It's nothing more than a vacuum that sucks the babies out and it's all supposed to end in about 15-20 minutes but that did not happen. Removing details of horrific pain and all the drama of what happened after 15 minutes, I will tell you that I was much further along than they said. I was three to three and a half months pregnant. And I was not in a hospital but in a clinic that was not prepared for what the doctor did next, because they performed an abortion right there, without anesthesia because they did not have it. They couldn't move me to the hospital because of the risk—according to the doctor, if you can call her that.
Long story short, she did the abortion and sent me home one hour later, fever and pain continued, blood everywhere. A day later I was in emergency ready for my next abortion, now under anesthesia, but with the terrible news that I had a double pregnancy and was perforated everywhere. Imagine that! A few days later, after the pain was gone, I knew i was ready to "go back to my life" but now with pain, regrets, guilt, and emptiness. Why? I thought babies were not babies and thanks to the teachings in the schools back then, Darwin theology was the How. Whatever we are at the end, I was sure that this was not a human. Just a piece of tissue or a monkey. Sounds stupid, yep! That is how ignorance looks. I feel like part of my person has gone with those babies. I look on the faces of other kids and try to picture mine in theirs. It was a torture for me. I see pregnant women and wish to be them. I cry and repent. I did not knew what to do or where or why this was having this toll on me. I used sex as an escape or fun or whatever to numb the impotence of not being able to deal with this loss and then fear kicks in. I want to clean what i have done, in my own way, so I want to become pregnant again, to amend if that is possible for what I have done. I was terrorized by all of this. Maybe I would not be able to have another child, so I tried, cried, and fell into depression. My mind was ill with guilt and for me this was the way to relieve it. Two years later, I got pregnant at 17. My daughter Thali was born by the grace of God. Do you think this ended here and I learned my lesson? NO! I continued this pattern of destruction not only to me but into the lives that have been given to me, In total, I have had more that 10 abortions. It's a long story, but finding healing and peace is possible. I share this for the sake of the precious children that have been entrusted to you.
Age: 40
Location: Kearny, NJ
Date: February 24, 2023
I'm still grieving. I miss my baby in heaven. My advice to all the people out there who’ve been thinking of doing the abortion: please don't do it. It will haunt you. I miss my miracle baby every day. I'm so sorry mommy could not protect you. Mommy wasn't ready during that time, so I told your papa, but he said he wasn't ready. If I knew that your papa wouldd leave me 15 days after my abortion I wouldn't have done it. I was suffering from depression after losing you, and I told your papa but he didn't want to hear anything about you. Fifteen days later, he abandoned me. I should not have done abortion. I miss you terribly. Today you were supposed to born. If I could go back to my past, I would 100 percent save you. I regret my decision every day of my life.
I am a 16 year old girl. Words cannot describe the pain I went through as I did the abortion. I never wanted to do the abortion, but I was coerced into doing it by my ex-boyfriend who afterwards turned his back on me, disgusted that I killed his baby. I wanted to keep my baby, even though I knew it would've broken my mother's heart. To anyone who reads this, don't be coerced into doing something you're not ready for. It's your choice. It's been a month since my abortion, and it's like I’m losing my mind. A day away from suicide.
Growing up, I always wanted a family of my own—to be a mother was all I hoped for. But I was only 22 when the pregnancy test came back positive. I was scared but excited. The guy I’d been with for over a year already had a kid. The thing that scared me the most was that his child was being raised by his mother and thought her grandma was her mother. She thought her father was her brother. I never agreed with what he was doing, especially when we had a home and land. He could have taken care of her, but I still loved him and never judged him for signing away his rights.
For a couple weeks I didn’t feel anything, and then everything I ate I threw up. So I grabbed three tests and all were positive. I texted him saying we needed to talk when he got off work, but he called me on his break to find out what was going on. When I told him over the phone, he was stunned and went minutes without saying a word. In my mind, I knew he wouldn’t want this, but I did and was hoping that if he loved me he would go through with this. Once he got home, he told me the words I never wanted to hear, “You need to abort this baby; we don’t have the money right now to take care of it.” I pleaded for the rest of the day and told him this could be another chance for him to actually raise a kid with someone he loves.
A couple days went by where we both collected our thoughts. I still stood my ground, but it was clear he wouldn’t be in my life if I made that decision. Being unemployed and struggling to keep up with bills, I wanted my child to live a life that I didn’t—to have everything he/she could ever want and need. So, I went by myself on Father’s Day of all days, while my boyfriend—who claimed to love me—spent the day at a car show with his dad. He didn’t tell a soul what I was going through or what I was doing and neither did I. I thought about walking out of the waiting room so many times for the two hours I waited. The clinic asked me if I wanted to know how far along I was. I went in not wanting to know, but when I asked it was 9 weeks. Nine weeks of my child growing and developing, and I was taking away an innocent soul.
When I left, I drove an hour by myself, and my boyfriend never called to make sure I was okay. Once home, he called to tell me he saw a help wanted sign and that I should apply. It was that moment where anger completely took over. I realized he didn’t care at all that I was hurting and just cared about how much money we made. He even asked how long until I could have sex. I made the worst decision that day. Not only did I give up my baby, but I stayed and listened to a man who will never be a father. I should have known from his previous child. Another year went by, and he eventually put his hands on me on my own birthday. He became the man he always was. Even though this experience will always haunt me—and the guilt I feel is unbearable—at least my baby won’t have to go through the pain that would be his father. Recently I’ve started telling my family about what I did, and it breaks my heart knowing they all would have helped. I didn’t need him to raise a child. We all have a past. To any woman reading this, who once made a decision you thought was right, it is not your fault for doing that. I miss my baby every day and on Father’s Day, instead of celebrating my dad, I am grieving a life that I never met. You never arrived in my arms, but you will never leave my heart.
I found out I was pregnant in my last year of high school—when I was 16. I missed my period and started having morning sickness. My breasts were also really sensitive, and I was feeling nauseous at weird times. I had told one of my closest friends that I might be pregnant so she offered to come with me to the nurse’s office. We walked in and the nurse instantly knew why we were in there. She said, “You look pale; are you here to take a pregnancy test?” I then took the test and patiently waited in front of the nurse. She turned to check the test, then faced me and said, "I was right. It's positive. sweetheart, you're pregnant.” I looked at my friend; she turned white as a ghost. I could feel tears forming in my eyes, but I had a smile of shock stuck to my face. I messaged my boyfriend saying I need to take a pregnancy test with him. He picked me up from school at lunch and took me over to his house as no one was home at the time. I took two tests to confirm if I was really pregnant. They both come out positive. I showed them to my boyfriend and he instantly broke down as soon as he saw the two pink lines. He immediately started hugging my stomach saying he was sorry. I looked at him confused—asking why he was saying sorry. He looked up at me and said, “We can't keep him; I'm sorry.” I then broke down in front of him and walked out of the house as he tried to get me to stay. I ignored him for the rest of the day and went to the nurse to book appointments.
It came around to my first ultrasound appointment. My boyfriend had came with me and the doctor showed us our tiny beautiful baby. He then made us listen to the heartbeat and we both broke down in the room as we had just heard the most beautiful thing ever. We went over to family planning and they asked us what we wanted to do with the child. We had told them we don't know yet, so they set us up with a councillor to help with the decision. After about two weeks of counselling, we decided on an abortion, but I felt rushed into it. I kept getting asked by my boyfriend to hurry and choose, and then the worst thing happened. My mother and godparents found out about the baby. My godparents cried, begging me to keep the baby. My own mother told me to get rid of my child while showing no emotion and not looking at me.
The day of the abortion came. I lay in the hospital bed praying something would happen to stop this as I was too weak to tell them I didn't want to have an abortion—that I wanted my child. I remember being given a small cup full of pills to take before the procedure. I was about to take the first pill but broke down instead. Everyone in that room broke down with me. I couldn't bring myself to take the pill. The nurses then took the pills away and said to tell them when I was ready so they could bring it back for me to take. I had another talk with my councillor and my boyfriend. My boyfriend had said to me in a pissed tone “What are you gonna choose, man, you're wasting time.” That gave me some sort of adrenaline boost to take the pills. I cried the whole time while taking the pills. I couldn't swallow most of them properly as I was crying too much. I lay in that bed just staring at the window, waiting for the doctors to come in and wheel me off to the room to perform the abortion. About one hour later, the doctor in charge came and wheeled me off in a wheelchair. I entered the room and lay on that bed just trying to mentally prepare myself for the worst thing of my life. The procedure then started, I remember screaming, "I'm sorry… I love you!” and many other things while it was happening. The nurse next to me started crying from all my screams and cries.
To this day, I still think about you. I believe you would have been such a handsome boy, my son. You will always be my first child. Though your dad was a bit rough in the beginning he also loves and misses you so much. He regrets it just as much as I do, baby. We're hopefully gonna try for baby number two and give you a sibling here on earth—but no matter what, you will always be our number one. We love you, son.
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