i didn’t choose life. :(

My “relationship” with B (for boy) began the summer between my sophomore and junior year of high school, he was a year younger than me, however. We were friends with benefits–a relationship that started out innocent enough, nothing too sexual. We would have random hook-ups together for about the next two years.
Every time we got together, we took it a step further. {readmore}; In January of my senior year we had sex for the first time together, unprotected. We didn’t talk about it and just went on with our lives as we would any other time we hooked up.
A few weeks later he told my best friend–his ex-girlfriend who was still in love with him–that we had sex. I quickly lost her as a friend and lost what little reputation I had at school. I was so angry with him, especially because, at this point, I was beginning to worry that I might be pregnant.
To him, it was okay that he told her and made me look like a horrible person (I’m not saying I didn’t regret it, but I’m not saying that it’s okay he told her either). A week later–my birthday–he finally asked me why I was so angry with him, and jokingly asked if I was late. I told him I planned to take a test soon and I would let him know.
I took 4 tests over the course of three weeks. When the first three kept coming back negative, yet I still didn’t have my period, I figured maybe I was taking the tests wrong. I stopped by the drug store one day that we were let out of school early, went home, and took the test. Positive. I sensed it all along, I just needed a test to finally tell me.
I waited a few days, unsure of what to do. Then I told him I was pregnant and “wasn’t planning to keep it.” He said nothing. I really wanted him to say something, so I waited.
Eventually I went into a clinic, paid the fee, and began having the ultrasound done–something they always do before the procedure. I panicked and said, “I change my mind.” She said, “alright,” went on with the ultrasound and was able to tell me by this point that I was having a girl. I was going to be due September 13, 2007.
I only wore sweatshirts from this point on. I think he was convinced I’d had the abortion by then. However, there were rumors all over school about me, and I could just sense everyone’s eyes on my stomach. It was upsetting me so much.
One night he came to my house, wanting to know what had or hadn’t happened. I told him I changed my mind. He wasn’t happy, and eventually threatened to kill himself if I didn’t abort. I honestly cared too much about him to let him go through with that, yet at the same time I was angry that he was being so selfish. For ten days I thought about what I should do.
It was April 14, 2007. A guy friend drove me to a clinic far from my hometown, out of fear I’d see someone I knew if it were nearby. He came with me into the oversized white building, and sat with me in the lobby until my name was called. I hated that my name was called.
It was a similar experience as the last time I had come in, only this time I knew I’d be going through with the abortion, so I was kind-of numb to any feeling the minute I stepped into the room for the ultrasound. I put on the gown they provided, backwards so they could do that ultrasound again. This time they didn’t even show me the ultrasound, they just looked at it silently. I was about 18 1/2 weeks along at this point. I was put under an anesthesia since I was so far along. I don’t know how much time passed before I woke up again. I felt crampy and bled like crazy for the next few days, which was apparently the start of my first period after being pregnant.
I didn’t think about it until I graduated. Then, it was like I had way too much time to think when summer came. I suddenly hated myself for what I’d done and became depressed. I started college in July and wasn’t really sure how to act anymore around people.
Soon, I started drinking, which I found helped me forget the past, for a little while anyway. So I drank some more, so much that at any given time of the day I had at least a little buzz off of the alcohol. I just wanted to completely forget the past.
The father of my aborted baby soon came in contact with me again. We talked a few times, and soon I found out he’d become a Christian over the summer. He said he felt so guilty about what happened and really needed to talk to someone, who happened to be a Christian.
I guess I was so surprised by what he told me that I started exploring Christianity. I’d technically been raised in a Christian household, but by my teens I had abandoned the idea of religion. But now it seemed like such a good thing; I mean, he was happy–he was never really that happy before. It amazed me.
Soon, I prayed to God. I needed to feel relief from the pain, and soon I did. I stopped drinking and left the school I was in so that I could transfer somewhere that I wouldn’t be as tempted to party or drink. I felt forgiveness for the past, which was an awesome feeling.
It’s now 2 1/2 years after my abortion. I still hurt sometimes when I think about it, especially around specific dates related to my pregnancy. My daughter would’ve turned two last month, which was a very hard time for me to get through. I wouldn’t recommend an abortion for anyone.
I now co-lead a ministry on my campus that serves a center for women in crisis pregnancy. I wouldn’t be able to do this unless I had a story to tell, but at the same time, it’s difficult to talk about and I hurt constantly.
I really want to help teens who find themselves in crisis pregnancy. If you ever want to talk, vent, come to me for advice, or whatever, I’m here.