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Mari

I regret my abortion.  There, I said it.  I have a really hard time looking at babies or interacting with children. It makes me miss my would of been daughter (I felt girl, not for certain).  I’ve never expressed this outside of my mind, and here I am on a public forum.

Please reach out if you want to talk.  I admit I have been able to do things and go places that I would not have been able to do with a child.  Doesn’t really feel worth it though.  Ironically, the radio is talking about new mums right now.   I am so sad!

A friend of mine gave birth around the time I would have.  I am so jealous sometimes.  I randomly cry thinking about this.

I was 23 and with my bf for year and half we were madly in love… but fought a lot.  Nothing physical, he would never do that.  We just were crazy for each other and sometime we’d verbally fight and that hurt us.  We are no longer together, not because of the abortion.  I miss him and still want to have a baby with him.  I wish I kept my baby.  I feel I am getting to old for children and that makes me more sad.

I don’t know what to do or who to talk to.  This is sad.  I live a good life and love many friends and family and am loved by many too.  My life has gone on, but I don’t know where to go to talk about my secret. And I’m fed up of the stigma, making people keep it secret.
I also wanted to save Earth by not overpopulating. So many idiots having children, so why did I sacrifice mine?

Lyn… ‘too young, too incompetent’

The first time I fell pregnant I was 14 years old. I had a stable boyfriend at the time, my first love. After reading some bad advice in a girly magazine, I took a risk with unprotected sex. Abortion didn’t cross my mind at first, I didn’t even know what it was at the time. My mother had once entered a bathroom with a coat hanger when heavily pregnant, and I knew somehow that she was trying to kill her baby, but I had never grasped the concept of “abortion”.

My main concern with the pregnancy was telling my mother, and hoping to get to a point where I was large enough that she wouldn’t hit me. So I hid my pregnancy for several weeks before the rumour got out at highschool and eventually reached my mother’s ears.
She immediately demanded I get an abortion. When I asked what that was, she told me, and I broke down in tears and screamed, “How could I kill my baby!?”
“Its not a baby! Its just a clump of cells” My mother had spat back angrily.
It was a line I would hear frequently over the coming days, months and years.

My mother told me I was too young and incompetent to have a child, even though I had been helping her take care of her own children, my siblings, since I was 8 years old. She told me she wouldn’t help me. I couldn’t live with her, she had her own children to worry about, which must not have included me.

She dragged me to a Dr to get a referral for abortion. I hoped the Dr would help me out, but even after seeing me in tears and hearing me say I wanted to keep the baby, the Dr told me that abortion was the best option. She gave the referral to my mother, and my mother called up the clinic to make an appointment, all the while I cried and pleaded with her not to make me.

Back at school I sought out the counsel of my favourite teacher, hoping she could help me, maybe talk to my mother. She too told me I was too young and incompetent to care for a baby. She told me it would ruin my life, my education, and that abortion was the only solution for someone in my situation.

I clung to my boyfriend who was supportive at the time. He was raised Catholic and I told him I couldn’t kill my baby, and he agreed with me. He said he would do everything he could to make sure I could keep my baby, and his mother, also a devout Catholic, said she would assist any way she could.

I went back to my mother with this new information, which she immediately refuted. “You want to be like his mother, stuck at home with 6 children!?” She had yelled. “You know he’ll leave you once you have a baby and get fat and have a stretched vagina. He’ll want someone fresh and unburdened.”

I tried to ignore her. I believed my boyfriend would stick by me. I believed his mother would help me, and I clung to that hope, until that too was taken away. After a few weeks of arguing, of being told I was incompetent, of being told I was ruining my life, of being weakened, my boyfriend came to me.

He had been talking to one of the teachers at school. She had told him how risky pregnancy was, how I could die because I was so young. He told me his dad was pressuring him to leave school so he could support me and the baby, but that he wasn’t ready to leave school. He told me “We can always have another baby, later, when we are ready”. Now he too wanted me to have an abortion.

Feeling as though I had lost my last support, I gave in and allowed my mother to book the appointment.

At 13 weeks pregnant (it was illegal to terminate past 12 weeks in 1998 in WA), I took a day off school to attend the clinic, and went with my mother and my boyfriend. We went into a mostly empty waiting room, and my mother filled in some paper work before I was pulled into a room alone for “counselling”.

The counselling consisted of telling me about the anaesthesia they would use, “twilight sleep”, and how to use the contraceptive pills they were giving me. They discussed nothing of the procedure, and nothing of what would happen to my “clump of cells”.  Maybe they thought too much discussion would scare me.  It would have.  Then they asked me if the abortion was what I wanted.  I told them no, it was what my mother wanted.

“We can’t do the procedure if it’s not what you want.”  The counsellor had told me.  She leaned in close, and said to me in a very practiced way, something along the lines of,  “You will have to go back out there and tell your mother it’s not happening, and it was a waste of time and money coming all the way out here.”
I was terrified of what my mother would say or do if I was sent back to her, still pregnant. “It’s what I want too.” I lied.

They dressed me in a gown and took me into the surgery. They told me they had to do an ultrasound, but I didn’t have to look if I didn’t want to.  They helped me on to the table, and then gave me an injection to sedate me.  A nurse held my hand and I counted backwards from 10, until I blacked out.  They never did an ultrasound.
When I woke up I felt giddy and happy.  I commented on how I liked the colour of the walls. They sent me away with antibiotics and birth control pills, and an empty uterus.

At first I felt fine, relieved that it was all over and I could go on with my life, without my teachers and mother hounding me.  Then I started noticing the babies. Everywhere I looked there were babies. Even at school, girls were having babies. I didn’t understand why they were capable of having children but I wasn’t. I started to break down and fell into a deep depression. I cried constantly, and when I wasn’t crying I was sleeping. I stopped seeing my friends, I stopped doing my school work. All I wanted was my baby back.

My mother told me I was making a big deal over nothing, and that I should “get over it”.  My teachers told me to “get over it” and get back to my schoolwork.  Even my friends couldn’t understand why I was so upset.  My boyfriend, who was supportive at the start, began to get frustrated with me. He was sick of looking after his miserable girlfriend while his friends were off and having fun. He wanted me to “get over it”.  Then the worst thing happened. My boyfriend, and only support, broke up with me. We would never have that replacement baby he promised.

Now I was completely alone. I started drinking and sleeping around. I fought with my friends, my ex, and all his friends. I became the crazy girl who had an abortion, and eventually I was driven out of the school and the area.

In my new school I tried to settle down. I tried to forget my past. I tried to “get over it”, after all it was just a clump of cells, and I couldn’t let a clump of cells ruin my life. I had to be a normal person, and normal people didn’t grieve abortion. I buried my pain, moved on and made new friends, but I was constantly on the search for something to fill a void. A huge hole in my heart. I ended up with the first guy who came along and showed an interest in me past just having sex. He was a drug addict and an alcoholic. But I didn’t care, because he loved me, and the hole filled in just enough to continue on.

I moved in with him when I was 17 years old, and after a year of living together I became careless with my pills, knowing I could get pregnant, but not really caring. I cried when the test came back positive, more because I was scared of telling my mum than anything else. Scared that she might be able to talk me into an abortion again. She was angry of course, but she could do little now. I didn’t live in her house of under her rules anymore.

At the 12 weeks scan I saw my baby up on the screen. He was rolling around and doing somersaults, and looked just like a human being. A little miniature person. He was a week younger than the baby I had killed, but he was still just a clump of cells, right? But this was a wanted clump of cells, and therefore he was worthy of life.

I loved my son with all my heart, enough for me to realise that my boyfriend was bad news. I tried to make things work at first, begging him to seek drug and alcohol counselling, but he refused. I moved out on my own when my son was a few months old, but he tried to follow me. He would come to my house unannounced and then wouldn’t leave. He would demand sex from me, and get angry and aggressive towards me and my son when I refused.

Around 6 months after we broke up he was at my house again, drunk and disorderly. He demanded sex, and not wanting to upset him I gave in. He didn’t want to use a condom, and I didn’t argue. The chances of me getting pregnant from one time was slim anyway…right?

Two weeks later I found out I was pregnant. I came to my decision rather quickly. I couldn’t have another baby with him and be trapped with him for any longer, and in this country you never have a baby if it’s going to cause you inconvenience. I knew it was the right thing to do, because every authority figure in my life had told me so, and I knew grieving a clump of cells was wrong, because every authority figure in my life had told me so.

I booked in for a termination without any more thought. I went in for the quick procedure, hurrying the doctor through the “counselling”, because I had been there before, and new what I was doing. I was completely emotionless. It was like having a tooth pulled.
Afterwards I felt relief. So much so that I went out nightclubbing that very night. I finally left my boyfriend a few months later and my life got back on track. I attended university, I met my husband. I got married and had a baby. And I new this had to be because I had an abortion. Abortion helps women. It helps them to leave their parents and get and education, because women are too incompetent to do those things AND take care of a baby. That’s what we are told anyway.

In 2007 I fell pregnant with my 5th child, 3rd I had planned on keeping. We were so excited. We were going to have a family of 3. We were going to be complete. Then at approximately 8 weeks pregnant I miscarried.
I was devastated when it happened. I locked myself in my room for nearly 2 weeks and ate and spoke little. I couldn’t help but think the universe was punishing me for my abortions. I killed two babies because they were inconvenient, and now I was losing a wanted and planned baby to make up for it.

I feel pregnant again almost immediately after, but this didn’t help my pain. I still felt guilt, and it affected my ability to care for myself and my children. My depression, which had always been lingering in the background, grew worse and worse. I began to be unable to cope with parenthood. I was put on medication after medication, and tried to medicate myself with drinking and partying, but nothing really helped. Finally in 2009, after years of feeling worthless and useless, I gave in and tried to end my life.

I was at home with my youngest son at the time, and scared he would be left alone when I died, I called the police thinking they would take at least 15-20 minutes to arrive. They arrived only a few minutes later, and luckily this saved my life.

They took me to the hospital, and they fed me charcoal to try to counteract the effect of the sleeping pills. I was in and out of consciousness, but I remember a nurse asking me my name, and the date and then how many children I had. I said 6, and he asked my husband if that was right. My husband gently reminded me we only had 3, and I broke down in hysterics, thrashing and calling out for my lost babies.

I was put into a mental hospital, for the fear I would try to kill myself again. I remember begging one of the orderlies to bring my babies back to life. She acted like I was crazy. I’m not sure if it was because I wanted my babies back, or because I wanted clumps of cells back.
After two days of being away from my family and my children, I couldn’t take it anymore, and I begged to be let out. They agreed and put me into my husband’s care. I attended intensive therapy for a few weeks, with a focus on self-care. I got help with caring for my children, and eventually I regained a sense of normalcy, yet the pain of my abortion was still there.

I wanted to support other women who had had abortions as a way of dealing with my pain. I wanted other women to be aware of the psychological effects so they could make the right choices. I volunteered for a pro-choice post abortion support group, thinking a pro-life group would only judge me for my abortions. However after a few weeks working in pro-choice groups, I discovered this talking about abortion grief was not welcome, and the main aim was to put all the focus on the woman, no focus on the child, and help her to “get over it”. Pro-choice did not want anyone to know about the negatives of abortion. They didn’t want people grieving over “clumps of cells”.

I was in limbo for a while. Caught between abortion being necessary, and abortion being awful. It was soon after that that I came in contact with the pro-life movement, I had never really been exposed to a rational argument, and was under the impression that all pro-lifers were crazy religious nuts who hated women.

I started to see that there were many in the pro-life movement that really cared about women, and they also cared about the “clump of cells” which they called a human, a person and a baby. They told me it was okay to grieve for my lost child. They understood the societal pressures that drove me to that choice. They didn’t judge me for my grief. They helped me to heal. And now I hope that I can help other women do the same..

Loveness

I had an abortion twice…..
I am sitting here, at 36, highly educated with a Doctoral Degree, big career BUT, the regrets! I first fell pregnant when I was 22 years old. I was still doing my undergraduate degree.  My then boyfriend was working.  He had a great job.  When I found out about my pregnancy, he just told me immediately: ‘You MUST have an abortion’.  He was 26 years old then.  At 9 weeks when I went for a scan prior to the procedure, the nurse asked me if I was sure I wanted to go ahead with this because she could already tell that I was carrying twins.  The doctor came in and I remember he was so cheerful and tried to strike up a conversation with me.

It was so PAINFUL!   I screamed and cried….!  When all was done, my then boyfriend picked me up in his car. I told him it was so painful that I was crying. His response was ‘It cannot have been that painful. If it was, you could have passed out’.  I remained with the bugger and five years later, we had a son.  Two years down the line, we split up.  I got a great scholarship to do a Masters degree in England in one of the best universities in the world.  I met a man there.  This time I was on the pill but, I fell pregnant.

The man is a Doctor and he also told me point blank:  ‘You have no choice.  Abort this child.  I knew I had to do that because I felt the child would interrupt my studies and I would lose the scholarship. A fter the abortion, I remember having nightmares in my room. I would hear children play around my bedroom. The man later left me.  I know I will be judged for being careless… I admit I was but, the regret is killing me inside. I look at my son, now 10 years old, and I imagine what my other two kids would look like….

Yva

Hi this is my Sad Story!!!
November 26, 2014 – I had an abortion that day.  I became a murderer!  I was so sick at the hospital with 104.6 fever… That day my life changed.  They told me I was pregnant I didn’t trust them so I told me to do another one, they did and it was positive!

I was in shock because I have one baby already and how I am going to support the other one, my economy it is really bad, I am working full time and going to college. .. I told to myself No I can’t I can’t give all my baby needs. .. that day I made the horrible mistake that anyone can make !! I aborted my 6 weeks baby :'(:'(

It is so hard how I could not have this baby !!!! I cry every single day because in my heart it’s a strong pain that it is killing me !!! I would love to go back and take the good and only decision … Have my Baby but I can’t it is too late :'(.

Amber

I recently had an abortion at 15 weeks.   My first altrasound was at 8 weeks.  When I first found out, I had no idea what I was going to do.  I have always wanted to have children one day.  The guy I was with (in a very new relationship)  was involved in a lot of bad things including a gang and drugs.  This isn’t something I wanted to bring a child into however I wanted this baby.

When I told L he told me I had to kill it.  I had considered abortion but when he told me what he wanted me to do I felt as if that was my only option:   that was what i had to do.  On the day of the abortion I felt sick just going there.  I took a close friend and when I laid down on the bed about to go to sleep I immediately knew this wasn’t what I wanted.

When I got home I felt guilty…  About a month later I started having nightmares and the have been reoccurring ever since, I’ve spoken to my close friend but I feel as though I need to have people around who have had to make the same awful decision..

Think again, Mel

Today is the 12/10/14.  Four days from now will be the due date of the baby I will never have.  I terminated at 11 weeks for, what I thought at the time, were sound reasons. I take medications that are highly teratogenic and I was convinced that my child would suffer a multitude of painful conditions if they made it through birth at all. I was then told by my specialist that the only way forward would be to stop my meds all together and I did not feel that I was able to take that risk with my mental health without the right support around.

I am having a really difficult time living with the choice I made.  I feel sick, sad & incredibly guilty.  Most of all, I feel robbed of the chance to be a mother and my grief will never fade.  I have always been very much pro-choice and I am an atheist so this is not religiously motivated but I urge anyone thinking about termination to think again.  Take all the time you need.  I agonized over my decision and still made the wrong one.  I cried all the way to the clinic and haven’t really stopped.  I think about my baby every day and the life we could have had together.  I wish anyone reading this the strength to make the right choice..

Bree

Pressure took over my mind.     I chose to abort my baby.   How can I ever live with myself, I don’t know.  I cry every night. I cry when I see a baby.  I can’t deal with the pain that goes through my head, questions I ask myself…   You are 18, yes.. but not ready.. there are reasons things happen to people.

I went to confession and Father told me that I was forgiven …  that every tear that shed has been forgiven.   But I have to live with this choice all because I let others pressure me.

I feel so sinful and empty.  I have guilt and a broken heart for a choice I made.

I am empty and hope to overcome it one day but now nothing can save me.  I did a very selfish thing and Oh I regret it so much.  *tears of pain*.

Dee

 

I heard the scream.

2012. I want to tell my story in the hope that it may change even 1 girl’s mind and help save 1 baby. My children have never heard this story and I pray they will forgive me for killing their older brother/sister.

1972 I was 18 and very naïve. I moved to the big city to work….very exciting. I met a young man who was very sure of himself and to me he was worldly and experienced in life and a nice person.  We started dating.  I was living in the Nurses Home but that never stopped me from going out and partying with him and staying out late. I was not very experienced in having a sexual relationship and not long after, I noticed I had missed my period. I told my boyfriend and he told me to give him a sample of my urine and he would take it to his doctor.

My boyfriend had just turned 18years old. He was 5 months younger than me. But he seemed years older and much more mature than I was. He told me the doctor tested the urine and I was definitely pregnant and the doctor told him to get it aborted as we were too young to have a child and my boyfriend was still doing his apprenticeship. My boyfriend had a friend whom he knew had an abortion and we went to talk with her. She gave us a name of a Doctor who does abortions in a hospital.

I had told no-one about my situation. We went to this big high-rise apartment building in St Kilda and waited to see the doctor. He called us in. He told us he could perform the abortion for a fee. I would have to go and see a Psychiatrist that he recommended and he would ask me some questions and I was to tell him that I didn’t want to go through with this pregnancy and he would sign a letter stating that I was not competent to have a baby and then I could get it aborted. All this time I had felt it was like a disease I had and needed to get rid of it.

At no time did I think of the tiny baby I was carrying. If someone had talked to me or shown me pictures (never had ultra sounds back then) I know I would have thought differently. If someone had just told me that I could keep my baby and they would help me. If my boyfriend had said he wanted his baby I would have kept it. But it was all about getting rid of it. We made the appointment at a small private hospital in Caulfield. I arrived by train in the morning after not eating. I was told I had to put the cash in an envelope marked with the Doctors name and place it on the bedside table. I had to dress in a hospital gown and get into bed. I was there all alone as my boyfriend had to work. He was picking me up after. There were other women in beds next to me. We all had our curtains drawn.

My turn came and I was put on a trolley and wheeled to a small operating theatre. I was told to move over onto the operating table that was fitted with metal stirrups for your legs. The doctor made a comment to the orderly along the lines of ‘she is a nurse and she knows what is going to happen’ they kind of smirked to each other. It was like I was in a dream. I couldn’t think or feel anything. I didn’t know what was happening. I was given an anesthetic and lost consciousness. I have had anesthetics before and have never had any problems waking up. I always woke up and had a drink and was ok. I remember being still under the influence of the anesthetic and I could hear screaming in the distance. Not just once but several times. I was woken by the nurse and she told me to stop screaming as it was upsetting the other patients.

The screaming was coming from me. I have never done this before. I believe I had heard my baby scream in pain and fear and I was screaming for him. I was given some sandwiches and I noticed that the envelope was gone. I had just paid someone to murder my baby. The method they used was scraping and suction. On my records it was stated that I had a D and C. Dilation and Curette which is a medical term they use when a woman has this procedure for excessive bleeding or other such things. My boyfriend picked me up and took me to his mother’s house. No-one was told what we had done. I carried this with me for many years not telling anyone.

We got married and after my first son was born I wanted him baptized and the priest wanted me to go to church and I did but because of what I had done and because I felt that God could never forgive me, I could not receive communion but I could not tell the priest why. It was only after we moved to Tasmania and I met a young priest at my kid’s school. He was very nice and not stuffy like the older priests and I felt I could finally confess to him what I had done. He told me that I just had to ask God to forgive me and that we don’t go to confession any more but I told him that this thing was so big it needed a priest. He heard my confession and gave me absolution and told me that Jesus has forgiven me.

It was like a huge weight had been lifted from my shoulders and I could finally go to communion. I have never forgotten my first child and believe that I will see him one day and I can finally tell him how sorry I was that he was not allowed to live and that I never protected him. I can tell him that I heard his scream.

.

Tayla

I am a Christian and I had an abortion last year at 18 due to the fact I was in the middle of doing my HSC exams and my parents already had enough stress of my brother with clinical depression and forking out so much money and our family was a mess at the time.

I found out when I was almost 21weeks when i wondered why I hadnt gotten my period for so long and I was on the pill.  There was literally no time to think about the decision, because of the cut off time for an abortion at this many weeks was dangerous and only few clinics would do it.  We had to travel to another state overnight by car because I wasn’t allowed to go by plane and I was suffering so much pain physically and mentally and the strain it put on my parents.

It really haunts me because I love children, they are my world, I’m an assistant nurse and about to be a student Enrolled Nurse and I wanted to do midwifery.  One of the hardest parts was sitting in a room and being asked is “is this the decision you want to make?” in front of my mum.  It really wasnt, but i felt I had to do it.  This has also caused problems between my love and my parents.

I’ve asked for prayers before but some people are so judgmental, I literally cannot comprehend what my state of mind was like at the time. Unfortunately even someone who was supposed to be my best friend that I had told had recently decided to be nasty to me and tell people and put it online.

My mum had my sister at 19 years old and she told me how hard it was and that she had no support and it’s hard to start off your life without a job or study and having a child.  All that I can say is in the end, this was Gods plan for us, he knew what our decision was before we had made it but yet he forgives us and loves us.  I pray to my baby because I know where they are; alive and well in heaven and I know they are beautiful and they forgive me..

Rach

Two years ago I had an abortion.  When I found out, I was in an on-again off-again relationship that had been steady for 3 years before that.  It was pretty rocky, but we loved eachother still at the time.  After I did the test, my world just came crashing down.  Right away, I told myself I needed to get rid of “it.”

I immediately took action to do so, and in the couple of weeks it took to get things done, I never referred to it as a baby.  I never told the father…the social worker told me it was best not to, seeing the relationship status I was in (he was obsessive and getting scary.)

Two years later, I regret having had the abortion.  Not one day goes by that I don’t think about the baby that could have been. I see couples with babies, baby items, one of my friends recently had a baby…I feel jealousy and want and loss.  At family gatherings, I always imagine where my baby would be sitting at the table, what he would look like.  I often think how old he (a feeling I have that the baby was a he) would be, how big he would be, what date his birthday would have been.

I wonder what it would be like to have my own little family, how things would have turned out for me had I kept him. In my family, only my mother and father know about my abortion…not my sisters nor my brother. My mother never wanted me to tell my siblings…but I would really want them to know…but is that being selfish? I also feel anger towards the father, because he knows nothing of this and has gone on with his life, guilt free. I know I shouldn’t be angry at him – I am the one who never told him.
Taking those pills early that morning they took him out of me…I don’t understand how I could have done that. Taking those pills killed my baby…the blood coming out of me…that was my baby dying from something I did to him. I know abortion is legal, but I feel that I killed him…that’s what I did…all the doctors did was remove the tiny undevelopped baby that was inside of me. I’m scared that I’ll never have the chance to be pregant again…
Right after the abortion, I was fine with it…but more time goes by, more I am not fine with it.  I know deep down that abortion isn’t murder…but it still feels that way.  I also know that so many girls/women get abortions and get along fine…which makes me wonder what’s wrong with me for still crying about it.  I jut keep hoping one day I’ll be over my guilt..