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• /abort73

When I was 16, I found out that I was pregnant on Mother's Day, and I had been writing a term paper for school on pro-life. Kind of ironic, huh? I didn't want to believe it, so I tried to ignore the results of the test, but it was hard to given that I was writing an essay on that topic.

I was an active member at my church, and I knew that they would look down on me no matter what choice I made, and I was right. My church wanted to send me to another church, a place full of strangers to help me through the pregnancy. With no support, I became afraid.

I wanted to keep it, but they didn't support me, nor did my family, especially my father.

My dad printed out all sorts of things for me to look at: the expenses of a child and the places mothers without homes end up and stuff of that nature. He would talk behind my back, and I would hear it through the grapevine.

"That's not my daughter, if she has it, I will disown her and it."

I went to my aunt, who told me that she had had an abortion earlier in her life. I was shocked to hear this. She told me that she would support me either way, but she wanted to show me something.

She brought me to her friend's home, a woman with 3 kids and no support. She told me how miserable my life would be if I kept it.

I went on to find out that a friend of mine was also pregnant. She was in the same week that I was in, 12 weeks. She went on to have her child. I did not.

Not feeling like I had support, I became afraid and ran away the day that my parents scheduled the abortion. This made my father furious. He wanted to kill my boyfriend. I was afraid for him.

I felt that the child would have brought pain, misery, anger, and expulsion from my family, so I went through with it. I was not mentally there when I made the choice. I feel like another part of me went there and went through everything for me. It was like I was watching a part of my life.

After I woke up, I saw that the nurse had carelessly left the chart of the before and after ultrasound. I wanted to die after I saw that. My aunt told me that I saved my father a trip from going to jail.

It has been 5 years, and I live in regret. It's hard watching my friend's child knowing that mine would have been the same age as him. It's like watching my child growing up, but I know he's not here. Because I allowed my fear to kill my child. I think about it every day. My father always says "I can't believe you are still upset about that,'' and that hurts more. When I do have children, I don't want them to have anything to do with him because I am still so hurt, and he always reopens that wound that I have.

Age: 22
Location: California
Date: April 11, 2012