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Last November, I was barely 25 and found out I was pregnant. I was still in school, working long hours with little pay and no benefits. I was living in my parents’ home to save money while they were working away. I was in an on-and-off relationship for three years. He’s the only man I’ve ever been with. I was struggling with birth control and so had stopped using it right before I conceived. I was so nervous about getting pregnant, but I didn’t know what else to do. My then-boyfriend was a good man at heart, but he could be emotionally abusive and struggled with alcohol addiction. I know in my heart of hearts he would be a good dad and have loved our baby fiercely. But neither of us was financially ready for a baby. And sometimes love isn’t enough. 

My family are staunchly conservative. When my older sister got pregnant out of wedlock, they shunned her and had us cut all communication with her for months. She doesn’t talk to my parents anymore. I was worried about the judgement from people—most of all my family. All I could think was I was going to lose my family, lose my home and prospects of getting into a better situation, and be stuck with someone that made me question and doubt myself. I knew my mom would be disgusted with me even though I too was conceived out of wedlock. She would argue I should have been better than that. I have been the child that was always the model for a good kid. There was always so much pressure to be excellent. I was the goody two-shoes that never made the wrong choice. I worried I would bring my sweet baby into a chaotic unstable relationship where his mommy and daddy hated each other. Or that his dad would end up in jail because he relapsed back into addiction.

I thought about my baby every day, not knowing what to do. I didn’t want to lose my baby, but at the time I felt trapped with no other choices. I lived in Texas and the Heartbeat Law had just gone into effect. I had no time to truly consider what I was going to be giving up or what my options really were. I found out at 4 and a half weeks. I chose to lose my baby at 5 weeks and 6 days through a chemical abortion. My sweet baby who I have thought of every day and marked every milestone since. I did it all alone. Only one friend knew, but she lived states away. It was absolutely the hardest and worst decision I ever had to make. Now, my baby would be due in 3 weeks. I would be feeling him wiggle and be getting ready to hold him. My heart is tattered. I am no longer in that relationship. I now have a job with benefits and I graduated. But I’ll always think about my baby and what could have been if I’d just taken him and ran.

Age: 25
Location: Texas
Date: June 21, 2022