I couldn’t talk about it

  Elizabeth
Ohio,  United States
 
 
I had my first abortion because I was in a very abusive relationship with a guy from age 15 to 22.  He wasn't abusive at all in the first two years.  Then suddenly he was, and I remember exactly when it started because it was so traumatic and blew my mind.

I was raised in a Christian home and got saved at 7 years old. I knew that having sex with my boyfriend was wrong, but my hormones got the best of me.  I first slept with him at 16 and got pregnant for the first time at 19.   My parents and I were in a rocky place because they didn't like him, and I was in a headstrong "I’ll show you" stage, so they'd taken all my things to his mother's one bedroom apt and dropped me off.   I lived there with them for about a year.  In that time was when I got pregnant and when I was beaten most severely.  

When I found out I was pregnant, his mother already knew.  She said she could just tell.  I’d had morning sickness so bad then, but amazingly not at all with my living children.   One day he had me in a chair in a corner with a knife to my throat telling me he couldn't afford to raise a baby and I was not to do adoption because he WOULD NOT have another man raise his child.   So... I gathered up the last of the money in my savings.   His mom drove me, and he rode along.   She was sympathetic with me because when she was young, she was raped and decided to abort the baby.  I had to go 2 days in a row.   One was supposedly education on the abortion and apparently due to a law that makes them give you time to really think it through (for 24 hours).   Then the next day I went in and had it done.  

It didn’t' really hurt.    Felt more like a pap smear.   Gave them my $300, which was all I had to my name. After we left, we went through McDonald’s drive thru, but I couldn't eat anything.   I knew what I did was wrong.  I was raised a Christian and was always pro-life.   I even had that pin with the 2 little baby feet on it and wore it.   We got home, and my boyfriend took off to hang out with friends while I lay on the couch with cramps watching TV.   The worst part is that he NEVER would let me talk about it.  He yelled at me when I tried saying that I don't know how fathers feel.   So, I never brought it up. I broke up with him at 22.   

At 28, he showed up randomly at my door and we hung out some.  It was at this time... 9 years later, that he actually allowed me to talk to him about it.  T hen I felt a huge weight off my chest because at least I could say it out loud to someone.   When I met my husband when I was 30, and when we fell in love and were talking marriage, I told him that I needed to tell him this in order for him to decide if he really wanted me.   He was so good.  He acted like it was no big deal.  

 I’ve never told anyone else.  If I mention it, I say I "lost the baby."  I feel I cannot tell my family because I’ve been dealing with this for years; and if I tell them tomorrow, it'll be fresh for them and they'll have to process it. My parents are crazy-stupid over their grandkids.   I just can't tell them there are two they'll never meet.

   
   
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