Abortion was initially an easy choice for me. I was 16 years old. My high school graduation was coming up. I wasn’t ready to have a baby and I knew it. The father would have stepped up if I had asked, but I didn’t want to ask. I didn’t want to carry that baby and I wasn’t about to ruin my life at such a young age. But then my grandfather passed away. And then a ‘friend’ suggested that my pregnancy was my grandfather’s spirit returning to the earth. And then abortion wasn’t such an easy choice for me. Up until that moment I had felt no shame about my decision. My mother had admitted to having an abortion very willingly, although I never told her about mine. The second it was suggested to me that the baby was my grandfather I became deeply ashamed of my choice. I hid. I went to my grandfather’s funeral two days after I aborted the pregnancy, and convinced myself that I now wasn’t worthy of having children of my own.
This was all ten years ago. Ten long freaking years. I only just let go of the idea that I needed to earn the right to have children and have started trying with my amazing spouse. He’s been so patient with me.
