My IRMA Story

As a girl, I set a standard for myself to save sex for marriage. I was 18 and getting ready to graduate high school when that standard was broken. It was a devastating reality, but instead starting over and trying again to stay pure, I gave in and continued having sex with my boyfriend. While most of my life was spent living with my mom, I lived with my dad and step mom in Germany the last two years of high school. The summer before starting college at Texas Christian University (TCU), I stayed with my mom in Ohio. My boyfriend and his family relocated to Pennsylvania. After being in Ohio a short time, I discovered I was pregnant. I took several tests hoping the results were wrong, but I was, indeed, pregnant. I called my boyfriend to tell him the news and as if he knew what I was going to say, he asked me to marry him. I rejected his request because it wasn't the choice I wanted to make. His next request was that I have an abortion. I told him I couldn't because I knew abortion was wrong. My original plan was to choose adoption for my child. As a military dependent at 18, my doctor visits were both free and confidential. I thought I could go to college and carry the baby to term, then choose adoption; keeping the secret from friends and family. The idea of allowing someone else to raise my child became too painful and fear of exposing my sin mounted. I was scared of ruining my pristine reputation as the virgin and good Christian girl. Up until that point, I had been the victim in life; now, I was the one who had committed wrong. I also had plans of college in the fall; being a single mom was not apart of that plan. I wanted to go back in time, and prayed I would wake up and no longer be pregnant, but, of course, that never happened. Finally, I allowed fear and the voice of my boyfriend's request to control me. My boyfriend's mom made an appointment and I boarded a bus to Pennsylvania. My boyfriend, his mom and I went to the appointment. It was nothing like what I had envisioned. There were no picketers - no commotion at all. It was a quiet office in suburban office complex. The doctor performed other procedures besides abortion, so it just looked like a regular doctor's office. My boyfriend paid for the abortion. I filled out some papers and took a Valium before heading to an examination room. I got on the table, while the doctor looked at the ultrasound – I was not allowed to see. He thought I was about 6-8 weeks along. A nurse came into the room and held my hand during the procedure. The doctor started the sucking process and the pain began. The nurse told me to breathe, but I couldn't – the cramping in my abdomen was more than I could bear. When it was over, the doctor told me the pain would get a little worse before it got better. I was given milk and cookies to help stop the cramps, but I still recall crying in pain. The doctor attempted to lighten the mood by making jokes about a promise of my future fertility. I stayed a few days at my boyfriend's house before returning to Ohio. I went to college at the end of the summer. As I started a new life in a place where I knew no one, I was left alone with my thoughts. The reality of my choice settled in – I had killed my baby! I went to a place of utter despair and spent my first year of college an emotional wreck. I can recall people in my dorm hearing me crying in the bathroom and asking if I was okay, but the truth was - I wasn't. The pain didn't subside; I just got better at suppressing it. In my junior year, I confided in a Bible study leader about my past abortion, and she suggested I attend a support group at the local pregnancy care center. I decided to join the group and began my journey of healing. The pain from this experience never completely disappears, but as I worked through the grief, I was able to function without suppressing memories. Now, at times, certain places or circumstances stir up emotions within me, but I am able to see a baby, talk about abortion and hear people's opinions without getting defensive and distraught. It was important for me to not only understand that I was forgiven, but also deal with the grief that was in my heart. I needed to allow my heart to experience the pain of that choice so that I could move on with life. It's a journey that takes a lifetime. While I regret my choice of abortion, I will never regret facing the pain.