My life has been a wild ride. I am a recovering alcoholic and in that I did some things that I am not proud of, however I only have a single true regret.

I had an abortion when I was 19. That was really difficult to write. I am still ashamed of that. I really wanted that baby, and I was pressured hard by my boyfriend at the time. It was the man I eventually married, Eric.

My abortion was the first on the schedule the day we went, but I was the last one done of the day. The staff must have know that I was waffling.

When I was in being seen and counseled they showed me my ultrasound image, and Lord did I cry. That was my baby that I wanted so badly to have her. I can’t put in to words accurately the anguish I felt that morning. The pressure to abort her was so strong that I couldn’t not do it.

Eric and I talked about this a few days ago and he admits that it was a selfish decision on his part. That doesn’t make me feel any better. It makes me feel worse actually. Him being staunchly Pro Life now makes me angry. Why was it good when he pretty much forced me to abort our baby? Why wasn’t our baby good enough to be born? Why weren’t I good enough to mother our baby?

(My hands are shaking writing about this)

When I was in on the table I was crying. I wanted Eric in the room to see what was being done. That this was the reality he chose for me and the baby. They wouldn’t allow him. I was shaking and crying uncontrollably. It was awful. Right before it started I yelled “STOP”, but I knew I had to go through with it for Eric. I felt at the time it was the only way to keep him.

Why wasn’t I asking myself “do you want to have this baby?” Or “what’s more important, the man or my child?” Or “you’re already raising one without a daddy, why not one more?” I was so wrapped up in being loved by this man that I would do ANYTHING, including the abortion to keep him. I was such a lost little girl at the time.

After the procedure while I was in the recovery room I screamed and wailed, “I KILLED MY BABY” over and over and over. The regret was instant and wicked. Eric had to witness that. I killed my baby. My precious girl I wanted so much was gone. And I allowed it. I consented. I did that. I killed my baby.

In my mind I still carry that feeling. It haunts me in January when she would have been born. My Shelby Nicole would be 30 now. I think about what she would be like and wonder if we would be close like I am with my son. I wonder if her hair would dark and if her eyes would be brown or green. I try not to dwell on it, but sometimes its hard not to.

In an unfortunate turn in my life, I got diagnosed with cervical and uterine cancer when I was 22. It was serious, stage III or almost IX. I had a total hysterectomy 10 days after my 23rd birthday. No chance of babies for me. Regardless of my partner.

I felt like I deserved that. I did something so reprehensible that I earned no more children. It was the Universe punishing me for my choice.

I turn 50 in a few months. I’m still working on forgiving myself. I know as a follower of Christ that I have Devine forgiveness, so why can’t I let it go? Maybe I will try forgiving myself for my birthday. It’s interesting that I can give Eric grace, but I have none for me.

I’d like to wrap this up on a happy note, but there isn’t one. Pray for me. Send me healing vibes. I am actively working on getting better about this.

Thanks for reading.