Aborted Women: In Their Own Words

Couldn't let a third one slip through my hands

by K. K.
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Hello. I've been visiting your website for a while now, and have decided that it is time for me to share my experience with others who need an open mind and an open heart. My story seems to be a little different that most of the others that are posted here already, but hopefully it will offer a new perspective to those who are searching for one.

I grew up in what I thought was a relatively healthy family environment. Things changed when my older brother reached his teenage years and became heavily involved in drug use. He started hanging out with a "bad crowd." He was very secretive and kept his private life hidden from our parents. However, I was not too young to know exactly what was going on. While my parents were at work, he would have all of his friends over. I don't remember exactly how it started, but some of his older friends would hold me down and rape me. Eventually, my brother was one of the boys holding me down. By the end, it was just him. This started when I was nine years old and lasted until I was about twelve.

As I was beginning to go through puberty, I had what I now believe was a miscarriage. At the time, I had no idea what was going on. In a way, I thought it was normal, even though it hurt quite a bit. I bled and passed what looked like a blood clot and a small mass of tissue. Based on the research I've done in the past few years, I don't think that I was very far along, or even at a point where my young body could properly support a child. I didn't tell a soul. I cleaned up the blood as well as humanly possible and went on like nothing had happened. In a way, I thought I would just be able to forget.

As I grew older, it became harder and harder to deny what had happened. My brother was long gone, getting help for his drug problem so I felt a sense of peace. Never did I expect that the memory of my unborn child would haunt me the way it did. I saw her in everything. I've been an artist my entire life, and she began to appear in my painting. I became drawn to images of the Virgin Mary and Baby Jesus, to the point where they would make me weep. I could see her in my mind's eye at all times. I didn't care that she was a product of incest. I didn't care that it "wasn't meant to be." I just knew that once she was alive, and then she died inside of me.

After years of depression and feelings of emptiness, I began to sort of build an individualized life for myself. I began to date and act like a normal, yet somewhat rebellious, teenager. I resented my parents intensely for what happened to me and our family. After years of struggling with shame and guilt, I became sexually active in monogamous relationships. Secretly, sometimes I wished I would get pregnant again.

When I was 18, a close friend of mine decided to abort an unexpected pregnancy. I begged and pleaded with her not to do it. I offered to adopt her baby, I offered to help her raise him. But she had made up her mind. She asked for my support since she was completely alone. As I waited for her at Planned Parenthood, I felt sick with guilt and grief. I could have done more to save that child. I should have done something.

I had just turned 19 when I found out I was pregnant. My first reaction was fear that I would lose the baby again. I had some medical complications and began bleeding a few months into the pregnancy. I was terrified, but all the doctors seemed very optimistic and were very comforting. The father is a good guy. He was very supportive of me and our baby from the very beginning. The pregnancy brought us closer together.

Telling my parents was hard. I waited quite a while before getting the nerve. My mother flipped out. She immediately kicked me out of her house. I had to drop out of school. I had no money to speak of. I was very scared. My mother told me that she would pay for me to have an abortion. I don't know if I will ever forgive her for those words.

My son was born in December and it was the happiest day of my life. I truly believe that the spirit of my miscarried baby is alive in him. Honestly, the thought of aborting was never a possibility based upon my past experiences, but I do understand the fear that accompanies an unexpected pregnancy. Personally, I can't understand how anyone could abort a child while there are people (like myself) that have lost one involuntarily and wanted one so very badly.

Yeah, I'm broke. Yeah, I'm a single mom. Yeah, I can't go out whenever I want to anymore. Yeah, I'm a college dropout. But I owed it to myself and to my baby to bring him into this world. I think that if I let a third child slip through my hands, I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

Thank you for creating a website that offers such a great resource to women in difficult situations. I hope that my story, although unusual compared to the others, can help to save at least one baby.


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Posted 9 Dec 2003.

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