As I sit here and write my heart is thumping like I just ran a marathon. I don’t talk about my abortions that much, 2 to be exact. Being a divorced mother of three, I convinced myself that “getting rid of it” was for the best. WRONG!!! I still have nightmares to this very day.
The second: I was engaged, living with my fiance, going to school to become an LPN, ideal I thought. But like an idiot, I did not get the reaction I wanted, needed or expected from him, so I figured it would be a mistake to keep it. I died that day at the clinic. Look a me, a nurse who had two abortions. Look at the irony. I am supposed to save lives, not willingly take them. I ended up breaking up with my fiance, because I started to hate him for not stopping me from getting rid of our baby, but in actuality I hated myself. And what made it really hard, one of my closest friends found out she was pregnant the same time I was. Her situation was somewhat less ideal: going through a divorce, out-of-state cheating husband and two children already, BUT she choose to have her baby, a girl. A year later, I still have not been able to see the baby.
And now I find myself pregnant again. A year to the date, almost exact. But this time, the father and I are not together. I asked him to leave, because I felt pregnant or not I could do better. I am happy, extremely to be pregnant. I haven’t been able to tell my mother yet, though. Almost as if I am waiting to tell her when I get so far along that she can’t suggest an abortion. I know she will tell me how dumb I am for keeping it, with my current situation. But the feeling I get from feeling this baby grow is awesome. At nearly 16 weeks, I can feel her, I know it’s a girl, move about. IT FEELS GOOD.
I forced myself to look at the pictures of aborted babies. Because I knew that facing what I did twice, would all the more make me proud for what I refuse to do a third.
AnonShare on Facebook