18 years old, middle of my senior year, I found out that I was pregnant. My boyfriend and I had used a condom and it broke. I immediately went and took the plan B. Unfortunately, it failed. I had no job, no money, living with my sick grandma, and my military boyfriend was 4,000 miles away.

At first I wanted to keep it. I even became a little excited. But after confessing to my grandma and my boyfriend, they felt the necessary thing to do was for me to end the pregnancy. I’ll never forget that day. It has been burned in my memory forever. After I woke up, I started crying and having a panic attack. A nurse had to come over and calm me down. She kept saying that I had done the right thing. The right thing. I went home and slept all day. Trying to tell myself that i indeed had done the right thing. That entire year I had ptsd. I would lash out at my boyfriend and drink until I would crying screaming “please please let’s have another one, please”! I broke up with him a year after the abortion. I got a full time job teaching preschool children and was doing well at the local community college. I was single for a while, started working out, feeling better about myself. And that’s when he found me. My future husband. I loved him from the first time we met. Two years after my abortion, I found out that I was pregnant again. Although 20 is still a bit young, I had the support of my boyfriend and our families and a growing career. Our son is almost 4 now and I love him more then anything else in this world. At first it was a little hard. Random memories from that day would pop up in my head when I would look at my little baby. Small stings from the past. But then I remember that I really was not ready at all to be a mother. My life was all over the place and I was trying to find myself. I can finally say after 6 years that I am at peace with my choice to wait. It’s my body and my right as not only a woman but a human being to decide what goes on with it.