I had my abortion a few months back, in November of 2017. The situation around it is long and complicated and very sad. The child was not my husband's (we have three together already, all wanted and all loved, but he had a vasectomy, and I had made peace with our 3rd being our last). We separated for a time.  I dated, got pregnant, and, due to my blood clotting condition, I knew the pain and doctors and medications and constant monitoring that would be required again. The man I dated wanted the child and while I was not prepared to have another, I was planning on keeping it.

At six weeks along, the man I was dating ran off with $8,000 of all the savings I had and left me with nothing. My husband, who had been kind and forgiving through everything, was willing to even accept and raise the child as his own. But then I thought of my husband's family turning their backs on us, having to explain the child to everyone who knows he had a vasectomy and me being pregnant, the reality of knowing I could very easily die because of my blood disorder and the pregnancy.  And then I thought of my husband.  As kind as he was to accept it all with open arms, you could see the pain in his eyes every time he looked at me or held my hair for me to vomit.  Knowing it was another man’s child was too much for me to bear.

I went in and the day I was to have the D&E, the doctor came in while I was lying down, ready to go, and said, due to my blood clotting disorder, I could not have it done. Crushed, scared, and heartbroken for a million reasons, we left and found a local Planned Parenthood to take care of the D&E the following week. It was a heart wrenching time for me, and I felt like there was no one I could talk to about it.

The day of came and went.   I was doing fine, but then a week later the guilt started to rush in. Now, five months later, I am still here, knowing the child was to be born on my daughters 8th birthday.  I even kept a small unicorn baby booty I had bought for the baby, because it doesn't seem fair that it just get forgotten. I want to scream and cry and plead to the world to give me another chance, to have this soul.  And I hate myself for allowing my fear of my husband's family and what people would say ultimately determine how I handled the situation. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of that baby... in my heart I feel it was a girl... at almost 9 weeks along there was a heartbeat, and I chose to turn away when they asked if I wanted to see the ultrasound before having the D&E.  I want one more chance, but I know I will never have it. I want to mourn for a child I can't have and beg God to forgive me. I hurt so much every day and don't know what to do... this is my story and that's why I am silent no more.