I’ve always wanted kids for as long as I could remember. I still do. The real baby fever started a few years ago, I don’t remember why.

I’m not a smart person. But I like to think of myself as, if nothing else, kind and compassionate, and loving. I had my abortion out of love.

When I saw the ultrasound, I almost couldn’t do it. It was just the exact same size as a little peanut. But forcing a baby on myself and my girlfriend, and forcing someone else into an unstable life, would’ve been the cruelest thing I could do.

So I gave my baby back to God, or the Universe, or wherever babies come from. And I mourned. I’m still mourning, but at least I can go a day or two without crying about it anymore.

 

I just hope, if I ever get to meet my baby again, that I’ll be forgiven.