Category: Women’s Stories

I was 24 years old when I found out I was pregnant for the first time. I felt ambivalent towards my pregnancy and it didn’t help that most people’s reactions were “Are you going to keep it?” or “What are you going to do? You’re not married,” or “Congratulations … I guess.”

I was also working as a pediatric nurse and had a good paying job. While this sounds like a good thing, I was also exposed to multiple teratogens at work, and my own OB/GYN doctor advised me that I was high risk for having a baby with birth defects. Often I think that if I was married, had a house and a steady income, I would be ok having a child that was ill. Or maybe I could work it out, being a young mom with a baby at home, but I didn’t think I was strong enough to be a young mom with a chronically ill child. So I had an abortion.

I remember sitting in the waiting room with five other girls watching “One Life to Live” and it was about how a woman who had an abortion wanted to move on with her life, but everytime she saw a little girl about that age all she could think about was that was how old her little girl was going to be, and if that was the only little girl she would ever have. I wondered if that is how I will feel someday. Then everyone in the waiting room started crying silently … except for me. I still couldn’t believe what was happening.

I remember waking up and being in the worst state I’ve ever been in in my enitre life. At least after childbirth, the pain would have been worth it because you have a little baby at the end.

But now I had nothing.

I was wrenching in pain on the stretcher and couldn’t breathe. My respirations were 44 per minute and the nurse handed me a cup of pills and a cup of iced tea that I mostly spilled on myself but I didn’t care. I couldn’t walk. I couldn’t sit and it felt like there was a sharp object in my rectum. The nurse said rectal pain was normal and it was ok. I’d never felt pain like that before in my life.

My boyfriend and my sister were waiting for me in the waiting room. As soon as I stepped out I started sobbing softly. I cried in the elevator. I cried in the walk to the car. I started screaming in the car on the way home. Small bursts of torture from the pain, torture from the regret, torture from why it had to be this way.

But I think the worst part is what I’ve had to live with everyday since. I’ve quit my job in pediatrics. I can’t stop wishing I had walked out of the waiting room while I still had a chance. I can’t stop thinking about the baby I would have had. I keep looking forward to the day I die so that I can ask my baby for forgiveness.

And you know something funny? The nurses I worked with thought I had quit because I was pregnant. I thought that they had looked down on me for being so young and getting “knocked up”. Well, a friend of mine that still works there told me that a nurse that I thought hated me blurted out one day “You know, she left because she’s pregnant. Wow, she’s so brave! She’s young and she’s not married, but she is going to raise that child all by herself. She is so brave.” God, how I wish I was.

 

 

 

 

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When I was 16 I thought I was in love. I later found out that I was pregnant. My boyfriend broke up with me and wanted nothing to do with me so I went to my mother for help. She insisted that I have an abortion. I didn’t want to have the abortion, but I had no place to go. I did have the abortion and felt a great sense of relief afterward. Later I became promiscuous and began to use drugs and drink a lot. My life was going to hell by then. I became pregnant again and had another abortion at my parents demand.

A year later at the age of 19 I became pregnant a 3rd time. This time I was determined to keep my baby. I decided not to tell my parents about the baby. I had already broken up with my boyfriend when I found that I was pregnant so that support was not there. When I was about 6 months pregnant I decided to tell my parents. They were furious with me and embarrassed, this time there was no way they could force me to have another abortion. Three months later, I had a beautiful baby girl named Elizabeth. My daughter saved my life because when I was pregnant with her I turned my life around and became a Christian.

Today I am 31 years old, I have 3 daughters and a wonderful husband that love me very much. (He adopted my daughter Elizabeth as his own.) I realize that abortion is killing a human life and I have been haunted by what I had done. I now volunteer as a counselor at a Pro-life organization. I love life and know that the Lord has forgiven me: now I am in the process of forgiving myself. I love my babies that I lost and I pray for them often. I look forward to the day when I see them again. I mostly pray for forgiveness from my babies.

I would die for my children without thinking twice, any mother would. But the sad twist to any abortion story is this: We mothers did not die for our babies, our babies died for us and that is not right! Abortion should not be an option for young women. If only I had known.

 

 

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This story is very different from most of the stories on this site. This story is about my sister.

This is dedicated to my unborn niece whom I love and will never forget. With all my love little one, Aunt Michelle will always love you and never forget you. If this page saves one baby, you didn’t die in vain. I love you, Taylor. And always remember your mom loved you too and she always will. Please forgive her.

She was 17 when she got pregnant. The guy was 21 and a real jerk. When she told him she was pregnant he told her that if she didn’t have an abortion he would leave her. (Big deal — he was a jerk.) She told him she wouldn’t do that to her baby. He left but still kept bugging her to abort the baby. She went to her doctor appointments, had her ultrasound, and seemed to be doing ok. If only I had known what was going on.

He had a new girlfriend who was just totally threatening the […] out of my sister. Telling her she was going to beat her up is she didn’t go and abort the baby and why did she want to ruin his life, he wasn’t with her and having the baby wasn’t going to bring them back together. On October 12, 2003 my sister told us that she had gone to the abortion clinic and had the seaweed bars placed in her cervix and she was having the abortion the next day. She was 18 weeks pregnant and there was no turning back now. All I could do was hold her as she bawled her eyes out. She was a total basket case.

On October 13 she had the abortion. That day was one of the worst days of her life. Since then she has alienated herself from the family. She moved out and started stripping and got into drugs. We never see her. She won’t come around me because I have two kids and she was there for both of their births. It is probably really hard for her to be around them. I wish she would forgive herself and heal. We are all healing still.

The baby would have been three months old right now and I wish I could have held her, but with the emotions my sister is going through right now I wish that I could hold her. The baby is with God but my sister is still here and she needs to heal. I wish she would let us help.

To anyone thinking about having an abortion, please think long and hard about it. Make sure you will be able to handle the after-emotions you will feel

 

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I am a mother of a two year old. I am 18 years old. I encourage those who have had an abortion to turn to God. Through Him you will find the comfort for the pain you have. He is the only one who knows your pain. Please write to me and feel free to call when ever you need someone.

I made a web site in memory of my son and for all the women out there, women who have been where I am and for ones considering abortion.

Please call at 1-502-799-0790 I can call you immediately right back so your bill is not high. If I am not home please leave your name and number i will call you back as soon as possible. My name is Stephanie Amos.

Jan 19, 2004

The last day I have with Jr. I keep rubbing my stomach, talking to him. Singing to him, hoping he won’t forget the sound of my voice. Praying God will prevent me from going tomorrow. Crying God will hear me.

Jan 20, 2004

Goodbye Baby Boy

I woke up at 5 am. I got sick one more time on the way to Cincinnati. They gave me an I.V. and told me my iron was down but not to worry about it. The doctor was late flying in from another clinic. She got the first trimesters “out of the way” quickly. I was given two white pills to put between my lip and gums to dissolve.They were given to me at separate times. A women beside me was talking about how inconvenient it was that the doctor was late because she had to get it over with and drive two hours to get home. They called me back into a small room. There was no room to move around. The female doctor came in, and asked me a few questions. She said she was going to numb my cervix, right after she said that she began the procedure. The first time she went in with a tool I felt Jr move, he jerked. I was already crying but i totally lost it. I wanted to tell her to stop, I wanted to protect Jr. but it was to late. The nurse beside me wiped my tears away, as another nurse watched the killing of my baby on an ultrasound screen. I felt everything, the pain was worse then having my daughter natural. I heard her chop him up (it sounds almost like two clothes hangers rubbing together), fluids rushing out, then she turned on the vacuum. She scrapped the the insides of my stomach until I thought I was going to die. I heard the vacuum stop and she took it out, then they saw something and it started all over. I passed out from the pain.

When I woke up the nurse was still wiping tears from my face. The doctor left leaving the door open as I lay there half naked. The nurses told me to sit up, but I said I was too dizzy. One nurse took my I.V. out. As she held my arm, I couldn’t feel her touch. They sat me up even though I was dizzy and felt sick. Right in front of me was Jr. in this big Jar. It was completely full from him and fluids. The nurse saw my face and quickly stood in front of me while the other got ready to take him out. The nurse who wiped my tears removed the tray under me and dumped it down the sink, using the garbage disposal. She handed me wipes and slid the trash can over to me. It had no top and was completely full of the wipes from the women before me. She quickly got me dressed, then she carried my shoes as she rushed me into the recovery room after they gave me shots. The woman in the recovery room got upset with me because I couldn’t take the pills — I felt like I was going to get sick. So, she gave me papers and told me to fill out the “important papers” until I felt better. I told her it would only get worse if I tried to read right now. I asked her for a few pretzels to help my stomach and she gave me 5 while saying “it won’t help”. She sat back down and a few seconds later she was asking me for my pills because they had given me one in a shot form. She quickly took the pill back. Then she had me take the rest. My stomach hurt so bad. The important papers she wanted me to fill out were a clinic survey on the staff, doctor, etc. She took my blood pressure when I first went into the room. After about 10 minutes she had me go check my bleeding. There was none. She let me leave.

On the ride home I felt gushes. My stepfather pulled into a gas station. I went to the bathroom, sat down and couldn’t even feel myself pee. I had no control over my bladder. When I stood up I saw all the blood in the toilet; it looked like I had just bled to death. It was everywhere. Feeling Jr. try to get away, I knew it was too late to save my son. It’s hard for me to understand that he is no longer in my stomach. Now he is in Heaven. I’m home, still dizzy, still in so much pain. I miss my baby. I wonder if he knows I love him. I can’t believe I let the world decide his fate, and I can’t believe I couldn’t save him.

I have prayed to God for forgiveness. I talk to Jr. a lot. God gave me a special gift, He gave me Jr. I was supposed to protect him. I love him so much. In my death I pray God will let me see my baby, let me hold him and kiss his forehead. I regret losing my baby. It hasn’t gotten any easier in my head. I know a day won’t go by that I dont think of him and regret what I let man do to me and him. I miss him. I pray to see him while I am asleep yet nightmares are all I receive. It hurts knowing I will never see him or hold him. I wonder if he is ok. The thought of him being without his mommy and missing me kills me inside. God only knows how much I love and miss him. I want him back so badly safe inside my womb. I am so unworthy. All this makes me wonder if I have the ability to be a good mother to Abby. If I ever lost her I would die. I’ve lost my son, I can’t handle losing her too. Losing a baby kills one’s insides. My heart is so broken. I’ll never be the same. A huge part of me is gone. My son is gone, my baby, my innocent little baby that only needed love and protection. I couldn’t protect him. I couldn’t stop them. He was so scared and I couldn’t protect him. It was too late. I failed him. My heart hurts so bad. He was the victim of this world and I failed him. My poor baby. I want to see him, want to hold him. Garth Brooks song when you come back to me again reminds me of him. I miss him. I feel so empty.

AFI’s song silver and cold is my song to my baby boy.

Jan 22, 2004

If tears could bring back my son he would be here, safe in my tummy. I miss him. This pain is getting no better. How do I get over losing him, losing my baby? How, when I am so afraid of forgetting him, forgetting how it felt when he would move around. Seeing him stretch on the ultrasound. Ive had nightmares for three nights now. I just want him back. How can one let go? What do I do? My baby — God, I want him back. God, bring him back please.

9:26pm

Jr.,

Mike will be here tomorrow. My mind has been on you constantly. Please forgive me baby for what I did. I miss you so much. I love you baby. You’re in a safe place, surrounded by love. I hope you get my kisses I send. I talk to you a lot. I pray you hear me. I have no right to call myself your mother for what I have done. If tears could turn back time I would still have you. I love you. Please don’t forget that. I keep thinking back to that day how I kept getting sick, I believe it was you begging me not to go. Then, feeling you try to get away my poor baby I am so sorry. I am living in a nightmare I can’t wake from. I want you back so much. I want to show you how much I love you. I want to sing you to sleep and hold you. I am sorry. I am going to be forever haunted by what I have done. I guess it is only right. I love you Jr. Hopefully I will be able to be your mommy in Heaven and do everything I want to do. Everything a mother should do.

I love you,

Mommy

Jan 23, 2004

To know my baby died is enough. To learn the first thing they did was to rip him apart then crush his skull kills me.

Jan 28, 2004

I went to the E.R. on the 25th, because I was passing blood clots the size of a small fist. I called the clinic I had the abortion at and they said it was normal. So I went to sleep at 3 am and woke up and changed my pad again and my bloody clothes at 3:30 am. I was going through 2-3 pads per half hour. I couldn’t move a muscle or a clot would come out. I put a towel under me then went back to sleep. After all, the clinic said it was normal. At 8 am I woke up, told my husband to watch the blood on the bed. (It soaked through my clothes and the folded towel onto the bed.) I walked to the bathroom and passed out. My husband woke me up and I was on the floor — I didn’t even make it to the bedroom door. I went to the bathroom while he went to get my mother. I passed five huge clots in a row. My mother came in and I passed out in her arms. She and my stepdad carried me into the my bedroom. I woke up burning up. I kept asking if I was going to die. I felt like I was. I was carried to the car. My heart beat was normal laying down but when I stood up it went to 142 and my blood pressure went down to 75/36 from 99/40. I lost a third of my blood and was severely anemic. I had to go to surgery on the 26th, a D&C and a laposcopy. That would be a D&E and a D&C in one week. My tongue and gums were white and my lips were the color of my skin. I just got home today. After ten IVs, nine times having my blood drawn. I almost died. If my husband wasn’t there to wake me up and get help I would have died. I was on the verge of needing a blood transfusion. I had a blood count of 7. It is supposed to be 12. I told my mom when I passed out to give my daughter a kiss for me and to tell her I loved her. I was afraid of not waking back up, I was so scared.

Feb 27, 2004

I am going to destroy my marriage. I am so messed up inside. I can’t even grieve but in bits and pieces because of Abby. I take everything out on Michael. My everything has become my verbal punching bag. I can feel myself falling apart. And there is nothing I can do about it. I try to ignore it, run away from this pain, but there is no escape. I can’t live with this pain, it is eating me alive. And I am destroying every close one around me. What if my husband realizes I am nothing at all but pain. If only he was there that day, felt Jr. move, saw him like I had. Maybe he would understand my pain. I wish he could have seen him alive, felt his little movements. A battle is going on inside my head, inside my heart. It makes me want to die, to know I will always have this pain, always this emptiness. An emptiness even Michael can’t fix, only Jr. I would have been 20 weeks pregnant today. Someday I can fight back the tears. But other times I can’t stop them.

There is a passage in the Bible I wrote in my journal. It is how I feel right now. Psalm 38, sorrow of sin.

March 6, 2004

My heart screams with pain. I will never be the same, not after what I have done. I close my eyes and I see the clinic’s doors. If only I could turn back time. Have my son back. 21 weeks and 2 days I would have been. Nothing’s getting easier. I am Jr’s gravesite. He died in me, he was murdered in me. I am his tomb, his grave my tattoo is his saying and name plate. I am only 18 years old. The greatest pain a women can ever feel is the lose of her child. Only I was the cause, they couldnt have killed him if I didn’t go to the clinic. He was in me, I was supposed to protect him. Why did this happen? If I would have stood up. If I would have done what I wanted. To leave the clinic, to not kill my son. I wanted him. I love him. I need him. My little boy. My baby. Everything I believe in, my morals, my views, everything I am about I have destroyed. I destroyed myself when I destroyed my son.

I would also like to mention to all the people saying it was “your choice”: I admit that yes it was — because I was the one in the end that went to the clinic. I never said it wasn’t. I did say, however, that I was cornered into it by being told it was the only way to “fix” things.

 

 

 

 

 

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I am going through menopause and some things are happening to open up old wounds. When I was 19 my fiance let me go through an abortion. I assumed he didn’t want the baby because he said to get rid of it the last time my period was late. Luckily my period came that time. But this time it was for real. I gave him his last chance to keep the baby while we were in the clinic.

There was a little girl in the waiting room. For God’s sake, what was a little girl doing in an abortion clinic? They made it sooooo easy to get an abortion in the 70’s. I just wanted to throw up. I asked him, well are you sure? but he told me to go through with it. After it was over the stupid nurse told me to tell my fiance it was a boy. Now that I think back how can they determine this? It was 11 wks. I am not sure if the baby’s sex can be determined. Maybe she was just trying to get even with men. I somehow feel maybe it was punishment to him. But the truth is we were all guilty. I remember wanting to throw up again…

I remember him taking me to Nathans. I remember feeling empty, alone in my room feeling I wanted to take it back. I felt so alone. Now I had nothing of value. I felt worthless. No one could ever love me. I almost forgot about whats her name. (He was seeing some girl in college) I never did know her name. He only denied it. I never did know if he married her. I heard they broke up and he dated others but then my gut says I think he married her. I never really knew, but I think he did. We only stayed together 2 more years and then our fighting destroyed our relationship. It was very bitter, there was so much pain, it was unbearable. We felt we were better off apart.

In my recent dreams he loves me and he is trying to say “I am sorry”. Well, it’s too late now to go back and make my decision over again. I should have listened to my mother. My own mother wanted me to have the baby. Now that she is gone I want to thank her for supporting me. If I had the baby I might have found out the true meaning of love. My child would have been 33 today. What a comfort it would have been for me in my old age. Now that I can never have kids, I feel regret and a terrible loss. If I could only take it back. My brother’s wife was mortified when I confided in her. She was very jealous. She wanted to be the first to have a baby and had bitter feelings towards me. She told me I was too young to have a baby. My fiance was seeing another girl while all this was going on. I got a phone call one morning, and it was some girl phoning me asking for my fiance. It broke my heart and cut me deep. After that I didn’t want to have this man’s child. He was repulsive to me. I hung up the phone and tossed my breakfast in the toilet. I was young, I didn’t have any confidence in myself. When I told a friend of mine my situation she said to have the abortion. She pointed out all his bad faults and it hurt me deeply all over. Why did my baby have to suffer for everyone else’s short comings? And now I don’t have any children at all. It only gets worse. I kept meeting more men who didn’t love me, they just wanted to make love. Anyone can do that. I am too ashamed to say I had 3 more abortions before I was 30. I just didn’t know how to stop it. I just wanted to be loved. The last time was the worst. He was a young version of my fiance. I had to get a grip of my self. Now that I am older I can’t believe I let this happen to me over and over again. I feel so ashamed and helpless. If I had only had the first baby, maybe my life would have had more meaning. If I could go back in time, I never would have gone through with it, regardless of the way my fiance acted. I just didn’t know the love the baby could have offered me. A baby is such a precious gift, and now sadly, I will never know the love between mother and child. I have paid so dearly for all my sins, when will all the punishment stop. I do not know.

My brother divorced his wife. They had one daughter and she had to get married. I do not know where my fiance is. I haven’t seen him since 1974. He got married before I did and he had 4 kids. I got married 10 years after him and my marriage has been rough. We didn’t have any kids. I had been in therapy for 5 years. My husband and I are not intimate, yet he is a very kind and generous man. We are only beginning to discover real love for each other. The fog is only beginning to lift.

 

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My boyfriend and I were dating for 4 years. We were both in college in different towns. I found out at 8 weeks I was pregnant. I thought, “maybe we could do it, maybe we could make it”! He slowly convinced me otherwise, that this is the right decision for us.

I was devastated! I was depressed! I made myself sick! I had one point while driving and sobbing that I thought it would be best for everyone if I drove into a telephone pole. This way I couldn’t hurt anyone else.

As with the person who wrote “Why didn’t I Chose What I really Wanted”, I did not tell my parents or many of those who loved me. Which also made my actions appear very erratic!

Our relationship became very damaged. We could not have sex for a year and eventually we broke up.

I sought counseling. She told me I needed to forgive myself. (I couldn’t understand what she meant. Oh, ok self, I forgive you. It sounded crazy!) I needed to take ownership of my decisions and to stop blaming others. I was convinced that God would never allow me to be pregnant again. That I willingly destroyed a tiny baby. She told me I was still a good person and that I deserved good things. I was insane with worry, depression, rage, anger, blame, shame, guilt, sadness, you name it! I consistently marked missed birthdays and cried every death day.

I did get better! Am I still sad sometimes? YES! Are Septembers always a little off? YES! But I am a good person. I made a decision! I’m living with that. I can’t go back and I accept that. I can only take the life I have and do what good I can for others. That is what makes me feel good, whole and loved.

As for that boyfriend … I ended up marrying him! We’ve known one another for 11 years now and we’ve been married 3 of those years. Two days ago I found out I was pregnant again and I cried with happiness.

Forgiveness is very powerful!

 

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At 13 I had a abortion. I thought I was in love, which may seem “silly” to some of you because of how old I was. I know at times it seems “silly” to me to. I thought if I had a baby it would make him love me more and want to stay with me forever (which by the way I was totally wrong about that), but I didn’t think I would really get pregnant. When I got sick I knew I was. I wanted that baby and didn’t plan on telling anyone.

Then after being sick for a few days (to the point where if I looked at food or even thought about it I would throw up), my mom wanted me to take something to make me feel better. Well, I had heard that if you take certain stuff it could hurt the baby so I looked at the bottle and in big capital letters it said, “DON’T TAKE IF YOU ARE PREGNANT OR PLAN TO BECOME PREGNANT”. So I told my mom; I thought she would understand. I was very wrong. The first words out of her mouth where “what are people going to think about what kind of mother SHE was.” I felt so bad and she said, “What are we going to do? You can’t have this baby.” So I said “abortion”. I didn’t want to, I don’t know why I said it but I did. So she was looking through the yellow pages in as much time as it took her to walk from the table to the closet to get the book. She got the number and we went for a drive so she could call the place without my dad or anyone else knowing. As she picked up her phone I told her I didn’t want to do it. She said she would just call and find out what they would do during the procedure. I was too sick to listen to what she was saying, but as soon as she got off the phone she said I had an appointment in two days.

So we didn’t talk about it for those two days. I woke up and we drove to the city. We went into what looked like an old apartment house. I had passed it over a hundred times though the years and never suspected it to be anything more then that. We were buzzed into a room with a bunch of doors. We walked up to one that had a sign on it that said, NO CHILDREN ALLOWED. we walked in and there were a couple of people there. I was sitting there about 45 minutes before I got called into a room with a lady to tell me about the procedure. She asked if I was sure I wanted to do this and I nodded my head. She seemed very nice. She went to do an ultrasound but couldn’t because I didn’t have a full bladder (ugh), so I got 2 cups of water and had to sit in a waiting room for what seemed like forever. I went back into the room but this time with a different lady. She didn’t talk much but when she did it was enough to scare the begezzies out of me. She did an ultrasound. I couldn’t look at it and it had no sound. She gave me a cup and I went into the bathroom and pee’d and when I came out she was waiting for me in another room.

My mom was with her at this point and I told her I wanted to leave but she said I couldn’t. They told me there were two ways to do it: I could do it “surgical” or “medical”. “Medical” being the pill, and it didn’t sound as bad so I wanted to do that, but the lady told my mother that there was a slim chance it wouldn’t work but it most likely would; well, that slim chance was all it took and my mom said surgical.

So they gave me a “gown” as they call it but it was really more like a giant paper-towel with holes to put your arms in. They walked me down a long hall into a room, and said the doctor would be in shortly. I waited forever and then some, then he finally came in. He was mean, or maybe I just thought he was mean, I’m not really sure which it was. He told me what they would do and checked me out. Then we walked down that very large hall to a different room (I swear that hall got longer each time I walked into it). It was a big room and I was told to sit on the table he gave me a shot in the arm and said I wouldn’t be able to feel anything, that I would go to sleep, to count to 100. They were going to give me needles in my cervix to open it up more. Well, he was wrong. I never went to sleep and I could still feel. All that shot did was make me to weak to move or say anything. Finally after crying for about 10 minutes from all the pain I blacked out. I woke up awhile later, I’m not sure how long I was out but it was awhile. My mom was the only one in the room besides a nurse who was standing in a doorway that connected to another room. The doctor came in when I started to move and I asked if he was done. He said he couldn’t finish it because when he started to poke me with the needles I would squirm. I don’t know how I could squirm, I don’t remember being able to move at all. So he told me to try the pills. He gave me a shot and a little brown envelope with pills in it. When I got in the car I told my mom I didn’t want to do it and she said the shot he gave me would hurt the baby if I decided to have it so I had no choice. I did it.

I went back to the office for a checkup and pee’d in the cup again and the lady said I was still pregnant, then she said I wasn’t. I guess she thought she was funny; I didn’t. I went home after being checked out and no one told me about any counseling or anything I could have gone to. My mom told me to never tell anyone and not to talk about it ever again. I am 15 now and have a boyfriend I love very much. (It may seem silly still but I am much more mature and understand that I don’t need a baby to make someone love me.) He knows about what happened and lets me talk to him about it. It helps me a lot to have someone to talk to.

I spent the last year with shrinks because of depression. My mom blamed it on my dad and his drinking, and whenever I mentioned the baby she would tell me to shut up (she still does). I have been on many different meds, none of which helped. Then I met my boyfriend and he thought if I talked about what happened it might help and it has. I am not on any meds now and I am “HAPPY” which I have not been able to say in a very long time.

I hope one day I will have a baby. I still cry sometimes when I think about what happened. I know it would have been a girl. I don’t know how I know that I just know. If I found out I was pregnant tomorrow I would keep the baby, no question about it, and if I could change what happened I would. Someday I will have children and I will make sure that they know they can come to me if anything happens and I will NOT make the decision of what to do for them.

Thank you for listening to my story. I hope it has helped you in some way.

 

 

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I’d like to share this … it’s not so much a story as my feelings almost two years after my abortion. I hope you’ll forgive the fact that I’m not ready to give my name, or share any details of my story. The whole thing is still very painful for me.

I’ve written this letter and rewritten it … every time trying to come up with a way to tell my story where I’m getting my point across, while not droning on and on. I had so many reasons I fed myself to have the abortion, but I can’t really find those reasons now.

Was I afraid to lose my boyfriend? Yes, I’m sure I was, but I lost him anyway, so did it help that I had the abortion? No.

Was I afraid to disappoint my family? Yes, but now instead of disappointing them in the short-term by giving the gift of life at the expense of some of my youth, I hold a terrible secret from them that, I’m sure would be a much larger disappointment.

Did I think I was doing the right thing? No, I honestly can’t say I ever felt right about it. I feel dirty and I feel ashamed.

The thing I wonder now is, if abortion is such an okay thing, if we women with our huge “right to choose” are so morally acceptable, how come I hear so much shame from those of us who’ve actually had abortions? All the women out there screaming that it’s our bodies and our choices … how come I never hear “I had an abortion and it was the best decision I ever made?” All I know is that I’m so ashamed I’ve never been able to tell my family … I rarely tell people I make friends with. I’m with a wonderful man now who is very understanding about it (although he is very pro-life, he is also very Christian and very forgiving and loving), but I still feel the need to apologize to him for it whenever I think about it.

I don’t know why I felt the need to share this, I suppose I didn’t really share much of anything except a few random thoughts. All I really want to say is that I wish I hadn’t made the choice that so many people fight every day to let us women have. It’s a terrible feeling. I’m filled with shame and remorse and work every day to find forgiveness. From reading the stories that prompted me to write this, I’d say I’m not the only one.

 

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Hello. My name is Kari. I was checking out this site … and I knew what I had to do. I need to tell my story.

I had an abortion on Novemeber 4, 1999. I was 17 years old. I was the youngest in the family and no one ever expected that I would become pregnant so soon. My family was disappointed in me. My mother was sad … but willing to help me at the same time. I was willing to keep the baby and do what I had to do to survive.

But one day my boyfriend — then of a year — wanted to talk. He said he was not ready to be a daddy and that having a baby now would be too stressful and we would not be able to care for it. I knew in my heart that I could … with or without him. From that day on my answer to him asking for an abortion was “no!” Finally after weeks of my boyfriend pressuring me and bothering me … I finally gave in. He had pressed the issue of abortion so much that is was pretty much stuck in my mind that I had to have an abortion. He told me that we could not care for a baby and I started believing him. One day while at my vocational class at school, I found a phone book and looked up the numbers for abortion clinics. Finding one, I went home and told my mom that I had changed my mind. I did not want to keep the baby. My mom believes in a woman’s choice so she did not argue or disagree. I told my boyfriend and he just nodded his head and asked “When?” By that evening I had made an appointment … more like a death sentence for my baby … but at the time that is not what I thought of.

Days before the procedure, I came home and my brother, who at the time was 22, was home alone. He asked me to sit down, that he wanted to talk to me. I felt very uncomfortable being that I never really ever talk to my older brother. To my surprise he started crying. He said, “Please don’t do it Kari, Don’t. You have no idea what it is like! I’ve had girlfriends that have had abortions, and it hurt me!” Staring at my brother crying made me just want to cry too. But no, I new what I had to do. I stayed strong, I would not let myself cry. I couldn’t. He said, “If you keep the baby, I will help you out with anything, money, food, clothes, please just don’t do it.” But I kept telling him that I had to, that I had already made up my mind.

I had friends tell me the same thing. But just like I did with my brother, I ignored all comments. I knew I had to do what my boyfriend had said. I did not want him to leave me; I loved him too much.

Finally: the day before. My mom had to go and fill out the paper work so I could go in by myself the next day. I felt bad walking in there with my mom. Ashamed. The next day came so fast. I woke up early, went to school to make up a test for a teacher. I told her I was having surgery that day but I did not tell her for what. She guessed what it was, and she was right, but I just said no, and that I did not want to talk about it. After that I went to my boyfriend’s house. Together we rode to the clinic in silence. I wasn’t scared. For a while I almost forgot I was there to kill my baby. It really hit me when I was put into a changing room. I was told to take all my clothes off and put them into a bag but leave my socks on. Then put on a gown, and sit in the chair until a nurse came to get me. After about ten minutes I kept thinking, “Leave Kari, leave now, don’t do this!” But that thought vanished as soon as the door opened. “OK Kari, Come with me.” She said firmly. I followed her down a long hall into a medium sized room. She said for me to have a seat up on the table and the doctor would be in in a few minutes. I sat in the white room, with blue bordered trim. Looking around. There were many machines that I had never seen before. I remember being cold, very cold. After sitting for what seemed like hours, an older bald man in a white lab jacket and a nurse in blue scrubs came in. He introduced himself and stated that he would be doing the procedure. By then I was terrified and I felt as if I could not turn back. He gave me a shot in my arm — he said it was to help with the discomfort. As soon as he gave it to me it took effect. I felt very dizzy. I was instructed to lie back and look at the picture at the ceiling. “A picture on the ceiling? How did I miss that?” I thought to myself. It was of a monkey saying a funny little catch phrase, but I cannot remember what it said. Then the doctor started with the procedure. As soon as he started it was pure pain. I felt as if I was being ripped apart. I remember thinking and crying “I want my boyfriend! Please stop!” The pain was so unbearable and he would not stop. The procedure lasted about five minutes but it seemed like an hour.

I was placed in a wheel chair and rolled into a “recovery” room. It looked more like a living room to me. There were seven leather chairs lined up in a row. I was placed in one with a blanket and a heating pad. There was a woman on each side of me. One was sleeping and she had a slight grin on her face. The other was half awake, nodding in and out of consciousness. I tried to sleep a little but as soon as I got out there a void hit me. I realized that I no longer had this living person inside of me. This person was gone, not there anymore. “What did I do???” I asked myself over and over. Then I heard loud screams. A woman was being pushed into the recovery room. She was crying and screaming hysterically. I had only been in the recovery room for maybe twenty minutes, but I had to leave, I could not take it any more. I spoke to the nurse who gave me my clothes and said I could leave. She gave me my prescriptions and sent me on my way. I had a few complications after the abortion. I woke up two days later not able to walk, and now I have bad periods. They are very unpredictable, and harsh.

Months after the abortion, I started to feel better, going around saying that I felt relieved, and better that I did not have this problem of a baby anymore, but within six months I was a total wreck. Guilt hung over me day in and day out. I wanted to die every day.

I started going to Post Abortion Classes, which I must say did help me a lot and even got me in touch with my more spiritual side. Though I am not fully healed, I know I am on my way to recovery. I am still with my boyfriend. We have now been together for two and a half years. He now talks about his experience with the abortion and he regrets every bit of it. There has been so many times that we have just sat down together and talked about it … and what our lives would be like now, but we will never know.

If you are a women, or even a young girl, and you are facing a situation such as this, I recommend that you look more into the consequences of an abortion. It may seem like the only choice to make, but it is not. I would give anything to be able to hold my baby right now. I took it for granted and now I have to live with the consequences. You do not. Try your hardest to follow your heart. Do not do things because you are pressured by others. When you are pregnant, you are in no emotional state to make such big decisions. You may think that you will have a hard life if you have the baby — and you will — but it all works out in the end. You just have to have strength, hope, love, and patience to get you through.

 

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I would like to share my abortion story with you. It happened 11 years ago, when I was 33, but it stays fresh in my mind because of the guilt and grief I still feel over it. My husband and I were legally separated at the time, and I was seeing someone else. I got pregnant by this man and then, of course, he dumped me.

My husband wanted to reconcile and said he would raise the baby as his own. But that was not to be. You see, the baby I was carrying was bi-racial: I am white and the father was black. The more my husband thought about it, the more he felt he couldn’t deal with how his family would react to a bi-racial child. So he and his sister convinced me that abortion would be the right thing to do and would solve the “problem”.

So, on Dec. 21, 1989 I went to the clinic and had the abortion done. It was awful! I can still hear the sound of that awful suction machine. I still have nightmares about it sometimes. I shouldn’t have done it. And I am Catholic so that made it very hard. I have confessed my abortion and I am reconciled with the church. I know God has forgiven me … I just can’t seem to forgive myself. I am in therapy now.

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