I was trying to be careful, taking the pill and using condoms with my boyfriend but I became pregnant. I didn't go to my mother at first because I knew she was broke after finally getting divorced from my father so I went to my oldest sister. Since she had become unintentionally pregnant just out of highschool, I thought that she would understand and be sympathetic. However, when I told her I was leaning toward abortion all hell broke loose. She screamed at me for close to three hours and laid massive amounts of guilt on me. Then she picked up the phone and called my father, who is and was extremely anti-choice, and told him that I was pregnant and going to have an abortion. My father appeared at the house in an astonishingly short period of time, told me he was disappointed in me but that everything would be all right, he would help me and the baby out, I could move home, I wouldn't have to work or quit school, and that he may even be able to get me back on to his insurance plan. The promises flowed like a river.

My oldest sister proceeded to call just about every relative we had in common and everyone either called or dropped by to offer me "help." I felt trapped and buried under the weight of their promised generosity, the guilt they leveled onto me for "even considering" abortion and what they thought was "support."

I did try to gather the money for an abortion but was unsuccessful at that time. My boyfriend also refused to lend me any money, he thought it was "cool" that he had knocked me up (forgive that expression but that's how I felt at the time) and he was anxious to meet his "son" (he always thought it would be a boy, I don't know what he would have done had it been a girl).

When I hit 14 weeks pregnant, I knew that I would have to keep the pregnancy. I was extremely depressed, felt more horrible than I ever had in my life, and kept wishing for it to end. I refused to move back home and yet I couldn't continue living in the dorm for too much longer. I prayed for a miscarriage and I did try what I could to force myself to miscarry even though I knew it was dangerous. I did not succeed.

My mother was the only person who did try to help me after it was too late. She helped me get into an apartment walking distance to campus and she did the best thing anyone ever has by paying off the small amount of credit card debt I had acquired so that I could start fresh. My oldest sister, the one who was so horrible to me, threw me a surprise baby shower (probably because I would have refused had she asked) and my family sat around ooohing and ahhing over everything, systematically remarking "aren't you glad you changed your mind?," while I tried very hard not to sob hysterically in the corner. I didn't receive new things either, I received mostly second hand and salvaged items which my father told me at the time was "good enough for you." My boyfriend and his "support" evaporated shortly after birth and he even quit his job to work for under-the-table wages at a bar so that he wouldn't have to pay child support. My father and his family, who had promised so many things while I was pregnant, quickly withdrew their support. When my son, Aiden, started looking more like a child and less like a baby, all support and "help" was withdrawn. At that point, I was told, "you've made your bed, now you have to lie in it."

I had my son two weeks after I turned 23. The pregnancy was traumatic enough but I was not prepared for the hell that is childbirth or the rush of emotions I felt then. I think it has taken me so long to write this because I don't want to be seen as a bad mother. I regret having my son. I do and looking back, the memories of it aren't so bad overall, but my day to day life since then has been. If I had to do it all over again, I would have gotten the abortion at all costs. I do love my son, there is no doubt about that, but I find myself wishing, often, that I had not had him at all. If that makes me a bad mother, then so be it.

Which leads us to last year, November of 2006. I was still living in the shoebox near campus, taking graduate classes at night, working two jobs, and trading off the babysitting with a group of mothers at the apartment complex. I was finally dating again, another graduate student in a different department. I was on the patch but having trouble with it. Mine seemed to slip around occasionally and a few even came off in the shower. I went to the health center on campus to switch birth control to the pill. Before I could take the pill, I discovered that I was pregnant.

I was angry, terrified, depressed, and filled with rage that this could happen to me again. I knew exactly what my decision would be, for me it was not hard at all. I still had another long semester before graduating, was looking forward to starting an actual career, could vividly remember how much I hated pregnancy with my son, absolutely refused to go through childbirth again, and would not compromise my life or my son's for this pregnancy. My decision was easy and it was to immediately seek an abortion. I told my boyfriend, I did not ask him, and he told me that he was actually relieved that I did not want to keep the pregnancy. I called my mother and explained the situation to her and that I would need to borrow some money from her.

I was surprised by how supportive she was and I cried for a very long time when she told me that things would have been different if I had gone to her the first time I was pregnant. My mother agreed to baby-sit for a few days so that I could have the procedure and recover. My boyfriend agreed to pay for half, drive me the day of, and even helped me find a clinic about an hour's drive away that gave a student discount. I called the clinic and made the appointment. We arrived early in the morning and the waiting room was already full of other women from literally all walks of life. I told him that abortion was obviously the "great equalizer" for women and at the time, he didn't know if he should laugh - he was so nervous and concerned for me. I was called back several times for paperwork, blood work, a group counseling session, sonogram, explanation of the procedure, and then finally for the procedure itself. I chose the twilight and was unconscious before anything started. I knew it was over when I woke up because the nausea seemed to go away instantaneously and after I asked the nurse if it was over and she said yes, I felt a momentous surge of relief. I thanked her about a half dozen times as she wheeled me to the recovery room, thanked the recovery nurses about a thousand times for helping me, thanked the nurse who came to give me my pills, antibiotics, pain relievers and instructions for home, thanked the person who walked me back to the waiting room, thanked the front desk and security staff, and then called on my cell phone when I got to the car to leave a message of thanks for the doctor.

I am and have always been extremely thankful and relieved that I was able to end that pregnancy and resume my life. I graduated in May, received a job offer that exceeded my expectations, finally moved out of our small apartment, and now actually have a chance to build a life for myself and my son. My boyfriend, who also graduated in May, recently proposed to me and I accepted. I never thought that I would find a man as great as he is, especially when most men see my son and have gone running in the opposite direction. We are looking at houses and my son is attending a preschool that I can actually afford to send him to and thriving! I do not regret the abortion, it was clearly the best choice I have ever made and been allowed to make in my life. I am not sorry about the abortion at all and I am thankful that I finally have the courage to give my experience.