• Videos / 
• Gear / 
• Blog / 
• Podcast / 
• Substack

• 
• 
• 
• 
• 
• /abort73

I'll spare you the unnecessary details. I was 19 when I got pregnant—and in college. I had always considered myself pro-life. At this point, I was confused and scared. I told my boyfriend and my aunt—who had been my guardian for the past 10 years—and NO ONE else. My aunt said she would make me an appointment to talk to someone. Little did I know I was headed to an abortion clinic. After filling out paperwork, the girl at the front desk instructed me to go to the back and put a gown on. I said, “Aren't I here to talk to someone first?" She then asked, “What do you want to talk about?" I explained that I didn't even know if I wanted an abortion, so she sent me to see a nurse. To make a long story short, I was in there for three hours listening to why an abortion was the right thing for me. I was young and in college. What kind of life would the baby have? I listened to how this nurse had a daughter with kids who was struggling on welfare and wishes she would have had abortions. Blah, blah, blah. My aunt and this nurse did everything in their power to make me feel like I wasn't going to survive and neither would my child. After almost three hours, I started believing them and not in myself. I took a pill and sat in a waiting room with other girls who had taken the pill. It was horrible. I sat there crying, knowing that the room was filled with dying babies. I wanted to take my decision back. After what seemed like an eternity in that room, they took me to the back room where the "extraction" was to take place. Still crying, I laid there and did what I was told was best for me. Of course, the guilt plagued me everywhere I went. For the first year, I couldn't even go past the baby section at the store without getting emotional. With every passing year I would reflect on what could have been and how old my child would be that year. I ended up finishing school but changing my major to get out early. To shorten the story of the past 13 years since my abortion, I ended up getting addicted to drugs, was in many worthless relationships, I had crappy jobs, and never felt worthy of another child. I felt that I was never with the right person and never made enough money. I didn't feel I could give a baby anything more now than I could have then. I'm not saying the abortion was the cause for my drug and alcohol use—or any of the situations I got myself into, but I'll tell you this. I am the woman now—at 32— that I was when I was 19. That woman was loving, smart, and going places. That woman wasn't headed for drugs and bad relationships. A year ago, I gave birth to a beautiful, healthy boy. When I found out I was pregnant, I stopped drinking and partying, and I have never been more motivated to continue my education and provide a wonderful life for us. I don't have a lot, and I have a low-paying job that any 19 year old could get. I was no more ready a year ago than I was at 19, that's for sure. The point I'm trying to make is this. There's no such thing as, “you’re not ready,” because you never will be ready! If you have love and determination, then that is all you'll ever need. Your motherly instincts will kick in and who knows, having a baby young could very well mean that you will be more successful at the age of 32 than I am. Oh how I wish I could go back in time, but I can't because abortion is forever...

Age: 31
Location: Columbus, OH
Date: January 24, 2015