In Memory of My 7 Babies.
I was 17 the first time I got pregnant. I was so scared. I went to my mom’s friend, and she said, “Well, you definitely don’t want to tell your mom because your parents have such big dreams for you.” So she took me to a clinic.
I remember it being cold. No one really spoke or looked anyone else in the eye. I blocked it out of my mind for years after I left there.
Later, I worked for a really good company, lived in a perfect neighborhood, and made a lot of money. Everyone thought I had the perfect relationship too. But I didn’t. He abused me. He told me if I didn’t get abortions, he would leave me. I never stood up for myself. In the end I had seven abortions.
It all came back to me one day when I was at the grocery store. I saw a woman with a little girl—this girl was like an angel. When I looked at her, she stared back at me like she knew exactly what I’d done. I started having flashbacks as I thought about how she could have been my little girl. I finally realized the empty feeling I’d been living with all those years.
I drove to my parents’ house, sat them down, and told them what I had done. My dad asked, “Did you ever think to talk to us before you did these things?”
I said, “No. I didn’t want you to be disappointed.”
He said, “I’m disappointed I don’t have a grandson.”
Today, I have been forgiven, but the pain will never go away. I volunteer for pro-life organizations so I can share my story with the hope that it will save a child’s life.