I had an abortion because my family made me, as well as the father. I never wanted one, but I knew no one would love the baby or me in this world, and my family made sure I knew that.
The Planned Parenthood was cold. Women were crying, and no one seemed to care. The doctor did not help me, and I felt uninformed by the people in clinic. I felt alone and humiliated, and they wouldn't let me see the ultrasound. I immediately regretted it, but they said the pill I took meant it was already too late. So, when I got home, I had to follow through. They said I would experience some pain, like a heavy period. I was six weeks along, by the way.
Yes, I did experience depression. I was always in tears, and I couldn't make decisions for a long time. I kept having nightmares and feeling a deep sense of loss. This was followed by suicide attempts, sleepless nights, and relationship issues for several years, until I started choosing to take care of myself doing more things myself.
Then met a Catholic man who I married. After six years of marriage and three children within the Church, a cancer scare woke me up to confession, and I stopped with "coping" sins. While I still have scars from it, I have finally healed through the Eucharist, because God can restore all things.