My boyfriend "Kevin" and I started dating my junior year of high school; he was a senior. We've broken up countless times and have seen other people, which is expected when a couple of kids try to settle down for such a long time at such a young age. After a year of seeing other people and studying abroad, we have been back together once again since the beginning of June. Throughout pretty much our entire relationship, Kevin and I hardly ever used condoms. Stupid move, I know, but we were careful to make sure that he never finished inside of me. We've both taken countless health classes which have informed us that this is not a foolproof method of preventing pregnancy, but nothing happened for so long that we kind of convinced ourselves it couldn't happen. I know anyone reading this is probably thinking, "has this girl ever heard of birth control?" Well, yes, I have--but my mother, an alternative health nut, had drilled it into my head for so long that birth control might actually cause more harm than good. I finally put her comments out of my mind and on my last trip to the gyno in June, I got a prescription for birth control pills. I started the pack on the first day of what I thought was my period in July. I say that because I ended up not even having to use a tampon because I was bleeding so little but I thought it was just was an effect of starting the pills. About a week after starting the pill I started realizing that every single day I was feeling extremely nauseous and fatigued, and had extreme breast tenderness. It seemed like I could never get enough sleep and I, previously a pretty big party girl, started cutting out going out to the bars and to parties almost completely from my nights. I assumed that these symptoms were just effects of the pill after researching online my specific brand of pill, and made the decision to cease taking it after about 3 weeks of torture. The thought that I might be pregnant didn't even come to my mind until I was off the pill for about a week and the symptoms weren't lessening at all. I didn't even want to think about it, but after putting it off for a few days I finally bought a pregnancy test, not really thinking that it would come up positive. When it did, I didn't even know what to think.. I think I was in shock. I started crying and brought the test into the kitchen and just showed it to my mom without saying a word. She didn't say anything for awhile, but when she did, everything she did say was supportive. Kevin was supportive as well; we had always said that this is what we would do if it happened. We're both still in college and don't have the means to support a child. We made plans to have the abortion done 4 days later.

After reading many of the women's stories on this website I knew what to expect, but I was still scared to death. When we pulled up to the clinic, there were two protesters, old men, standing at the end of the driveway holding signs and shouting things to us as we drove by. At that moment I hated those old men so much. Who were they to judge me or any woman trying to do the right thing for herself? Once inside, when looking around the waiting room I saw myself in each of the faces of the women sitting there. We were all of different races and ages, but the expression on our faces all looked the same—scared, but with the knowledge that we had to do what we had to do. The weird thing is, none of us said a word to each other the entire time. I wanted so bad to ask them if they were as scared as I was, but the words wouldn't come. I think maybe talking about it makes it feel real. The worst part of it was the waiting. Waiting in silence. After doing paperwork we were all sent into a second waiting room from where we got called periodically to do things like get our temperature and blood pressure taken, get a sonogram, and to be counseled. After that it was more waiting. Everyone was nice, but the fear still pounded in my head. I was finally called into the operating room, and all I remember is the doctor giving me the anesthesia and telling me to breathe deeply. The next thing I knew I was waking up in another room. I was groggy, bleeding and in pain, but thankful that I wasn't awake for the procedure. After about a 20 minute period of recovery I was deemed ready to leave, given an antibiotic to take with me, and my mom took me home. For the first hour I had pretty bad cramps and bleeding, but by the afternoon I felt a lot better. It was a stressful, physically and mentally painful ordeal to go through, but it was 3 hours of my life in exchange for the rest of it. If I was to have that baby, my youth would have been taken, my chances to achieve everything I want to would have been gone, and a child would have been born to parents not yet mentally or financially mature enough to give him or her everything he or she deserved. I am not sorry that I had an abortion.