When “never again” happened

The first time I was scared. The religion I grew up in said abortion was “bad”, but had shown with actions that unwed mothers were “worse”. The second time I was angry. The father of the child in my womb was already living with the woman he’d been lying to me about sleeping with by the time I found out. I promise I think about both babies every day. I promise I carry them with me more than you could ever realize. I also promise that, unless you’ve been there, you don’t understand. Because I certainly did not. Even after the first one, I thought to myself “it’ll never be so bad I’ll do that again” and then I did. And as much as the world tells me it’s not ok, I’m finally strong enough to say that I know I’m better for it. Because the world we live in is not a world anyone should be forced to bring a child into. Until you can promise me an equitable world for my child and the womb from which he or she comes, don’t tell me that you know the decision I should’ve made. It’s not your sacrifice, it’s not your body, it’s not your choice.