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I had an abortion at 15, and I regret it. I was late, had cravings, was overly emotional, had cramping, felt nausea, and at times was sick—so I told my friend I needed a test. We went and took one that night. It came back positive; tears ran down my face.

How could I bring this child into the world? What would I tell mum? How would my boyfriend react? What will people think? She told me to relax, and it would be sorted.  We went back to the chemist and told the lady. She wasn't very helpful, so we took another test in case, and it too came back positive.  When we got home, my friend called my boyfriend because I was worried. She asked him questions, but didn't say anything about the situation. I spent that night crying and thinking. The next day, we had our sports carnival. I was talking to my boyfriend, and I said that we had to have a serious talk when I saw him that night. He guessed it straight away.  That night, we had a talk, but I cried the whole way through it. He promised me we'd sort it out, and we did. I couldn't tell my mum because she would be so disappointed, so I asked my dad—who I don't talk to—to consent to the abortion, and he said he would.  The next week, we had an appointment with a doctor to get a referral, then 5 days later, we went to the clinic. I brought my friend, boyfriend and dad.  My boyfriend and I decided to name her.  He said to me: "choose a name for a boy and one for a girl." And I told him I already knew it was a girl. He asked how, and I told him I dreamt it. He then started to get emotional because she's "daddy's little girl."

I told him her first name was Ruby, and that she'd take his last name. He then chose Grace as her middle name. It was beautiful. Ruby Grace. I miss you. If I could take back time, I'd think more. Losing you was the worst decision I ever made.

It was five weeks later, and I still remember the day as if it were yesterday.  Waking up in the morning nervous, me and my friend got ready. And I gave mum a kiss, and walked out the door. We walked to the bus stop and met my boyfriend. It was a full bus, but I cried all the way to the station. We waited at the station and dad picked us up and took us to a shop near the clinic. I couldn't eat or drink that day, and it was killing me. I was so hungry, and my cravings were tempting me. After I went to the bathroom, we got back in the car and went to the clinic. Shaking, I got out of the car, and got to the clinic two minutes later. Dad talked to them while we waited outside, and I paced up and down outside, asking myself if it's what I wanted. I cried. Thirty minutes later, we went inside to the waiting room. I'd been to the bathroom about 5 times in 40 minutes. They called my name, and I felt a knot in my throat. I got up shaking and looked back at my boyfriend. He stood up, but then he didn't come. I saw his eyes get watery.  We went to the first nurse, and she asked questions. She laid me down and did the ultrasound; I lay there crying. I asked if she could see her, and she looked at me and said, "how do you know it's a girl?" And I said I dreamt of her. I closed my eyes, she looked at my dad, and he was mouthing her something, and she said to me, "You're 8 weeks." I cried more and got up. I could've sworn I was more than 8 weeks. I sat down, and she explained it was too far into it for the pill and that I had to have surgery. I asked how long I'd have to stay after the surgery, and she said I could leave straight away if I felt OK. She gave me tablets for after and put me in the doctors room.  He talked me through what was going to happen, when to take the tablet, how long the procedure will be, and what to expect. I was then moved to a waiting room.

They were putting me under twilight anesthetic. I sat there holding my stomach, crying and looking at food magazines—I was just so hungry. At that point, I knew I didn't want to do it. After about 10 minutes, I was called into another doctor's office.  He talked in more detail about what was going to happen, how long I'd have to stay after the procedure, what I would feel in depth, and answered questions. And then they put me back into the private waiting room.  I sat there holding my baby girl and crying gently. Thinking about how in an hour she'll be gone. I looked to my dad and said, "I don't know if I want to do this anymore. Ruby's mine." He told me I had to; it was just my emotions. Then a nice nurse came to get me. She told dad it was time to leave. I asked for my boyfriend so that he could say goodbye to her, but he said no. I felt tears building up, but I just breathed. And the nurse let him out and took my hand.  She took me to a room where there was a bed. She handed me a skirt and told me to keep my top on, but to take my leggings and underwear off. She took my spare pair of underwear with my toiletry item. I sat on the bed and cried; she sat on the bed and put her arm around me. She gave me tissues and said, "Come on, darling, lets do this now," and smiled at me. She got out, and I slowly did what she said. I was shaking and crying, but I did it. I stood there, held my belly and whispered, "I'm sorry, Ruby, I love you so much, and I'm sure daddy loves you just as much. Ill be with you very soon. Im sorry." The nurse came in just as I was tying the skirt up; she handed me a tissue. I dried my tears, took my jewelry off, and she took me to a very bright room. I felt my heart drop.

I walked into the room and there was a bed in the middle, a nurse, and what I thought was two doctors. The nurse that was already in there didn't make too much contact with me. My nurse told me they couldn't because they had to stay focused. My nurse told me the man at the foot of the bed was the doctor. The man at the top of the bed was the anesthetist, and the other nurse was to help the doctor. I took a deep breath and climbed onto the bed. I was shaking like crazy but held my stomach tightly. I turned to my nurse and asked if she'd stay with me and she said yes. I broke down straight away. My nurse clenched my wrist and told me it'll be OK, "it'll be over soon," but I kept crying. They put the peg on my finger, but my nurse still held my wrist. When the anesthetist came and told me to extend my arm onto the black cushion, I started to get worse. My tears got stronger, and I was asking them not to do it. He tightened the band around my arm to find a vein. When the doctor's nurse saw me getting worse, she came up from the foot of the bed and grabbed my hand with one of her hands and put her hand on my forehead looking into my eyes and whispered something to me. I cried more as he started injecting the anesthesia. I got worse, and I said, "I don't want to do this, please don't." And my nurse looked at the doctor, and they looked away from her. My nurse looked at me and said, "I'll be with you through the whole thing and when you wake up." She wiped the hair from my face and kissed my forehead. I still had the tissue in my right hand, and my nurse had my right wrist, while the doctor's nurse had my left wrist. My nurse looked at me, and her eyes got glassy. She said, "You'll be OK." I kept sobbing and looked up at the roof. I felt myself getting dizzy, and I kept saying, "I want my baby, don't do this!" And I got louder and louder. I started feeling myself go, and my last words were, "I love you, Ruby. I'm sorry."

The nurse woke me up in a bed after what felt like three hours, but was only 15 minutes. I burst into tears straight away, and she said she'd get my dad for me, but her voice was breaking and shaky. Dad came in with my friend almost straight away, and I just lay there crying. I didn't want to talk to anyone. Dad sat at the foot of the bed and my friend next to my bed. My friend said she'd get my boyfriend for me, and she left. When my boyfriend came in, he started crying straight away. He sat down on the chair next to my bed, grabbed my right hand, put it to his head and started crying. And then I remember thinking that my tissues must've fallen. The nurse came in and said I had to eat and drink before I left. She brought in a donut and a glass of water. I sat up and ate and drink. I looked down on the right side of me and saw the tissue on the bed and just cried. After I finished, I looked at my nurse and said, "Can I please leave?" She asked if I felt OK, and I said yes. She called my friend back in my room and all 4 of them were in the room. I slowly got out of bed, and when I looked down, I realised I only had my underwear on. They helped me get dressed and ready to leave, then dad brought the car closer to the door, and they helped me to the car. I closed my eyes and rested my head on the car door. Dad brought us to the city, but I couldn't walk properly, I felt like I was going to be sick. Dad ended up just taking me home. My friend unlocked the door, and my boyfriend carried me upstairs and I just laid in bed and cried and buried my head into my pillow.

My boyfriend and friend hadn't eaten so they were going to walk to Hungry Jacks and leave me in bed, but I didn't want to. I got up and went with them. It was a slow walk, but I got there.  We ordered food and sat down. I was not hungry at all. I unwrapped my food, looked at it and cried again. It felt like all I could do was cry; I had no desire to eat. My boyfriend's friend came and we just sat there. I really didn't want to see or talk to anyone.  I made a mistake. If I could take back time, I would have done things differently. I would have kept Ruby. I would've told mum even though she'd be disappointed and kick me out. I killed my own baby, and I loved her so much. I still do. I'll never forgive myself for that.  A week ago, I found out I had actually been 10 weeks pregnant, almost into my second trimester. My dad made them tell me I was 8 weeks, not 10. I will never forgive him, ever.  I love you more than anything, my baby.  Mummy loves you.  Sleep well my darling.  R.I.P. Ruby Grace.

Age: 15
Location: Australia
Date: September 24, 2013