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Never Grow Up

How I felt at the time…

confused, sick, in a false content mood.

How I feel now…

depressed, but at peace.

How old was I when I had my abortion?


How far along was I?

8 weeks.

Who came with me to the abortion?

My mom.

My story…

I was 14, and extremely naive. Knew nothing, wanted nothing, except to be a mother. I dreamed of it. One day I slept over at my best friend’s house, and i woke up extremely nauseous. i ran to her bathroom and threw up. At that time i knew. I told her about me and my on-off boyfriend at the time, and she called her cousin to take us to Wal-mart for a pregnancy test. I went home later that day, and took it. Two lines appeared. Two. The test was positive. i called to tell my boyfriend. He was excited, and he told me that he would do whatever he could to support me and the baby. we even decided on names. When I discovered I was pregnant, I was shocked, and excited, and scared. i instanly was attached. When my mom wasn’t home, i’d play music in headphones and press them to my tummy so my baby could hear. Even though my baby’s ears weren’t developed yet, it was a comforting feeling. But as i went along, i started throwing up more often. My mom was worried at first. I knew I would have to tell her, but she had figured it out before i was ready to tell her. She was so mad and depressed, she instantly pressed me to “take care of it”, and shoved the phonebook at me and forced me to call. The increased stress was hard on both of us. She walked about the house, threatening that she wanted to kill herself, and I was terrifed. But i could do nothing more than lay on the bathroom floor, feeling so weak. My strenght was gone, pure gone. I knew it wasn’t the baby’s fault, he was just an innocent victim of a terrible mistacke, and for that, i wanted to make it up to him. i wanted to keep him, and be the best mommy i could. But I didn’t want is to come about it this way. The night before my appointment, i stood up to my mom and told her i was keeping the baby. she threw the phone at me and told me to call my aunt. She was supportive of any decision I made, and asked me many questions to help me untangle the tangled thoughts in my head. After talking with her and my cousin (who had a baby at 17) I knew what i had to do.

I loved this baby, would give my life for him, but i knew i could never give him the life he deserved. my friend and I agreed that I was giving my baby to God. i remember throwing up in a plastic bag before i walked into the clinic, and some guy come to me, shovved a piece of paper at me, and told me i was making a selfish coice. All i could think of, is “You don’t know me, you don’t know my situation, and i feel terrible of what i have to do, but what gives you the right to make me feel worse? I will suffer in my own way. Mind your own buisness.” I was given an ultrasound, and I had pictures of my baby given to me. my mom took them and put them in her purse. I went back and sompleted the procedure, which was difficult and painful, all i can remember is a lady by me that kept saying “take a deep breath; blow it all the way out” I did as she asked. Afterwards, my nausea ceased, and i had put myself into a false content state, to fool everyone that I was stable. I just wanted out. I left the clinic, got in the car, and covered myself with what was supposed to be my baby’s blanked. When I got home, My mother put the pictures of my pretty baby in the filing cabinet. I locked myself away in my room, and slept for 4 hours. When i woke up, she was gone, and I tokk the pictures out of the filing cabinet. I keep them in my favorite book, on the page of my Estimated due date. After that, I cried all night for four weeks. And I still do. But I have come to peace with it, My baby is with God. For awhile i felt like i was forbidden from entering a church, but my good friend told me that i was forgiven, and i belived her.  I’m still learning to forgive myself, but i always come to the fact that i will never really forgive myself. i just wanted to tell my story, because i know that if someone had told me, “I know it hurts, but if you feel that this is the best thing for the baby, god will forgive you, and you can resume living in harmony.” I’d feel a bit better about this whole thing. Last night, i had a dream that i was holding my baby; It was a beautiful girl. She was at peace, but all i could do was cry. I don’t know why i was crying. When i woke up, i closed my eyes and begged my memory to let me see her again. But she was gone. As long as she is safe, i am at a slight peace.

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