I was 20 years old when I had an abortion. I was in the process of working through the trauma of a miscarriage and family issues when I fell pregnant for a second time. The disappointment, shame, and being ignored by my father the first time fuelled my decision to have an abortion. I was sick with HP and lost a significant amount of weight. I thought that it would save me from a world of pain if I didn’t have to tell my parents that I was pregnant for a second time. But it didn’t turn out how I’d planned. The guilt and shame were debilitating. The trauma of having your offspring sucked out of you isn’t something you can prepare for. I couldn’t get out of bed. The world was a dark place. My boyfriend at the time was as supportive and understanding as a wet mop. I was alone and in desperate need of help. I went off the rails. I drank every weekend and that slowly began to happen during the week as well. I was hanging out with the wrong crowd. The kinda crowd what I really didn’t fit in to but I was trying to desperately to find a sense of family. I was sexually assault while at one of the party’s. I was at a point in life where when it was happening I was telling myself I deserved it and this is where I belong. On the ground in this person laundry…worthless. Then one New Years I visited some family overseas and a series of events lead me to find freedom through Jesus. Freedom from the jail my decisions landed me in and that my decision don’t define me.

Abortion wasn’t the answer to my problem. Accepting responsibility was. What I needed was someone to tell me that I was strong enough to get through it. To tell me that situations change, but death is final.

I was adopted as a baby. You would think that alone would be enough reason to not have an abortion but unless you live through it, you will never know. Each day of my life I am thankful to wake up and be given the option to choose.