When I was 19 or so and my girlfriend at the time was 16-17, she told me she was pregnant....I was a little excited but that ended quickly as I was told by her that she was going to terminate the pregnancy. I was a little hurt, but I was in love with her and I felt that it was really her decision. .Both of us were young, and she had not yet finished high school. She also had aspirations of being an airline attendant. So I accepted her decisions based on these merits.
I took her to the Hospital where she had already made arrangements, (can’t remember if her Mother had a hand in this or not.) I was told to wait in the waiting room and I did so for what seemed an eternity. By not knowing the real truth about abortions, that I was killing a living person, I really felt nothing. I know I was concerned for her well-being but that was all I felt at the time. I was able to see her in the recovery room and later I took her home.
Somehow I knew that this was the beginning of the end. We tried to resume a relationship, but eventually we drifted apart and we both went our separate ways. I fell in with the wrong group and ended up wasting my youth away until I was around 27. I went back to school and started my journey with God and became Catholic. It was at this time that I was coming to the realization of what I had done. I had gotten someone pregnant, and I killed my Child. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I was the man, I was the one responsible for getting into this situation, and I was the one responsible for putting her in this situation to have to have an abortion. And to some degree I still feel this way.
When I was 32 I got married. We tried for years to get pregnant but due to complications we were never blessed with our own children. We thought about adopting 2 small boys when the opportunity came up, but I made excuses to our age and at what age we would be when they got older etc. and we never discussed it after that. By now we were being blessed and cursed with a plethora of nieces, nephews, God children, great nieces and nephews and friends’ children that we lived vicariously through them. When I say cursed I mean me. The more time we spent with the kids the more guilt ridden I have become. So much so at times that I have prayed for my life to be ended. I pray for a chance to start over all the time.
But most of all I pray for my Child and dream of Her often...For some reason I know she is a girl and have named her Emily Margaret. I miss her so--I wish that I could have held her and watched her grow up to be a beautiful young woman. But I denied her and me of this. She never got a chance to smile, to laugh, to run, and to play. She never got a chance to learn to grow and reach for the stars. I denied her the chance to fall in love and to be a Mother herself. But I do know that the only thing I did give her was a chance to scream and cry in pain and I pray.
Oh God, I pray that You and Emily will forgive me. I know that she is with you, Lord and I know that she is safe...Please tell her that I love her and that I am truly sorry that the one person who she should have been able to trust, to keep her safe sat silently in a waiting room. Emily, I will remain silent no more...I love you.