Wednesday, January 26, 2011


I had an abortion.

There, I said it. I have been staring at this blank blog post for days now trying to figure out how to even begin a blog like this. Nothing sounded right.. I though about calling it a confession, or a secret, but none of those seemed right.

If you are horrified enough by the first 4 words of this post, then I suggest you stop reading now. I am not writing his because I want anyone's pity or anyone's opinion on it. If you liked me before you read this and you stop after, then you really aren't the kind of person I want in my life, or even reading my blog, anyways.

But, let me back up a bit... Almost 12 years....

I was 15 and in love, well you know that "in love" you think you are in when you are 15. Like the Taylor Swift song.. " When your fifteen and somebody tells you they love you, you're gonna believe them". I really did believe and I think in my own 15 year old way I loved him too.

I made the decision to have sex with him and we didn't use any protection.
I don't know why..
I wish I did..
I was stupid, that's why.

I think I was in denial about being pregnant for a long time too. The boy who loved me had already decided he didn't love me anymore and he didn't even know I was pregnant yet.

But I remember it like it was yesterday.....

I remember not getting my period the first month and thinking nothing of it.

I remember going with my mom to try on bathing suits for a school trip and none of the tops in my usual size fitting me because my chest had grown so much.

I remember finally realizing and crying on the phone to a friend that I though I was pregnant but I would never have bought a pregnancy test myself.

I remember him telling me I HAD to tell my parents.

I remember my mom who must have over heard my phone conversation coming into my bedroom and tell me to get off the phone so we talk.

I remember telling her I though I might be pregnant.

I remember her walking out of my room and hearing her car pull out of our garage.

I remember her coming back with the CVS bag with the EPT test in it.

I remember peeing on the stick and how fast those two telltale lines popped up.

I remember falling into a pile on the bathroom floor.

I remember my mom telling me we would handle it.

I remember calling my ex and telling him I was pregnant.

I remember him calling me a whore, telling me it wasn't his child, and hanging up on me.

I remember crying.

I remember calling back 7 billion times that day and never getting an answer.

I remember my mom getting the phone book.

I remember there was no yelling.

I remember her making an appointment for me to "handle it".

I remember crying all night long.

I remember calling my ex the next day and hearing "The number you have called has been disconnected".

I remember feeling alone.

I remember my mom waking me up at 5:30am to go to the Women's Center.

I remember them laying me on a table for an ultrasound.

I remember NEVER looking at the screen.

I remember refusing to be awake for the "procedure".

I remember sitting in an awful paper gown in a waiting room with other women in awful paper gowns.

I remember crying.

I remember them calling my name to come back....

I remember laying on another table.

I remember them starting the IV.

I remember crying.

I remember my mom's comforting face when I woke up.

I remember leaving the clinic and driving through the crowd of protesters that always stood on the sidewalks in front of the women's center.

I remember they called me a murderer.

I remember crying.

I remember my friends and my parents NEVER judging me.

I remember being really, really sad for a long time but NEVER talking about it, because its such a taboo subject in the world.

I remember every single day, even almost 12 years later.

I do not for one second feel ashamed for what happened to me. It was a decision I was incapable at making at 15 and so full of teenage emotion, so my parents did what they though was best for me. And it was what was best for ME at that specific moment in my life.

I think the people who need support the most are sometimes shunned and unforgiven for things they have done. But I know that only God can judge me, and me and the Big Guy are pretty tight.

And if even ONE person feels like they are not alone out there because they too have had an abortion, then this blog post.. the hardest post I have ever written, was worth all the tears that fell on the keyboard as I was typing it.