Within a year of my parents' divorce, when I was sixteen, I left home to avoid the mounting responsibilities of being the oldest of five children. Against my mother's protests, I moved in with a man I met, who gave me a diamond ring and promised marriage as soon as I finished high school.
Before Christmas that year, I found out I was pregnant. My boyfriend demanded that I get an abortion. It was easier to be pushed into abortion than to fight for my baby, not knowing how I would be able to manage on my own.
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| I was pregnant at sixteen. |
He went to work and told me to "take care of it". The clinic was filled with other women, some somber, some laughing - all of us going in pregnant and coming out alone. The pain of the procedure was worse than I thought possible. I was crying the whole time. For over an hour afterward I was throwing up, repulsed by what I had just done. I told my boyfriend everything in graphic detail. He cried and told me if he had known how horrible it was, he would have never made me do it...
(Read the rest at Wtness.org)
