My experience is so vivid in my mind, the pain is still raw and I feel my heart and soul ache when I revisit it. I was 17, my father was absent and running around with another woman while my brother and I stayed by our mother's side. I guess I rebelled, I went looking for replacement the love of my father but instead I got promiscuous and found myself in a disfunctional realtionship based on empty sexual rendezvous with Kevin. It was not love, it was sick and I was being used. I got pregnant and I remember knowing at an early age that my mother got pregnant with me before she was married to my father. I began to ask my aunt about that which hinted at the fact that sonething was up. I will never forget the look of utter heartbreak when I told my mother. My brother was in the room and called me a whore and a slut. I would bring shame to them and be a burden to a single mom trying to raise 2 teens. My mother decided that I would have the procedure, I really tried to come up with a solution that would allow me to keep my baby but nobody could accept them. I could not marry Kevin, he was abusing drugs and alcohol and was abusive to me. Being a from a strong catholic background, it was hard for me to look my grandfather in the face, I was so ashamed. It was more important for my family to keep the fact that I had had sex at an early age a secret rather than admit I made a mistake and then live with an illegitimate child.
My mother brought me to the hospital, I was numb the entire ride. My brother was relieved that this would soon be over and that the rumors about his sister's pregnancy would soon be shattered . Kevin was off high or drunk somewhere and did not care to support me either way. I remember the nurse being cold and practically throwing the gown at me. I dressed and then had to sit and sign a paper consenting to the fetus to be used for research. As I stared at the page through a veil of tears, I asked "do I have to sign this?" The nurse responded "why do you care what happens to the fetus?" I broke down and asked to see my mother who would also be crying uncontrollably in the waiting area. Instead of granting me that, the nurse ushered me to the gurney and said I'd be fine and it would be over soon; and it was. I remember waking up and vomitting in a pail and then catching the saddended gaze of another girl, younger than I in the bed next to me doing the same. I had instant remorse, so powerful I could barely stand the pain. I begged God to forgive me but was sure I was damned now and forever. How could I live with this mistake? recall wanting to leave recovery prematurely because I could barely stand listening to the cries of all the other girls in the room. We were all murderers now, killers of innocent babies.
I went on to name my baby which I intuited would have been a boy; Cody Aaron. Every April I imagine how old Cody would be and what he would have become in life. I went to college to become an early childhood educator and found it difficult to study human development and I would often leave class to vomit due to nerves. I cried many a night.
I married and have three beautiful children of my own now. My husband is supportive and understanding of my past. I have been going to church with my family for the last 17 years without missing a Sunday or Holy Day of Obligation but only recently got the nerve to face my parish priest and go to confession to ask forgiveness for that sin of abortion. So much shame I have been carrying. I wept inconsolably while doing my pennance before Our Lady of Sorrows. I am forgiven and I am so grateful for God's abundant mercy. I do still suffer though. I suffer heartbreak and regret and a hole remains where my baby could have lived.