I couldn’t shake the feeling. I kept telling myself I was wrong, that he must have washed his hands and that I was still a virgin and therefore not pregnant. Later that week I went to the doctor because I was pretty sure I had a yeast infection. The doctor tested me for that, and asked if I had any more problems. I said I did; I thought I was a pregnant virgin. She assured me I wasn’t, and offered to give me a pregnancy test to make me feel better. I peed in the cup and give it to her. While I waited, I looked at the brochure for the yeast infection cream the doctor had given me. I saw that one of the causes was pregnancy, and I just knew, was absolutely, completely positive. The doctor walked in with a grim look on her face and I burst into tears.

That weekend I went for a date with my boyfriend. He drove around, trying to tell me something. Eventually, I realized he was trying to dump me. I told him we had to discuss something, “What are we going to do if I get pregnant?” He pulled over and asked me if I was pregnant. I said I was, and he believed me.

For the next week or two, we debated what to do. I told him I wanted an abortion because I didn’t want my parents to find out and because I wanted to finish college. He said he wanted kids, but couldn’t decide if our relationship would work. Sometimes I would listen to his stories about how great it would be to be parents and I believed him, but soon reality set in- I didn’t want to be a mother, at least not at the age of 18. I didn’t want to get kicked out of my house and lose my chance to get my degree at a prestigious university. All the while I was throwing up like crazy from morning sickness (though I never missed a lecture).

I scheduled an abortion at the Planned Parenthood. My lovely boyfriend told me he couldn’t be there because he had class, so I told my best friend. She got upset and started talking about a shotgun wedding. I told her I wanted an abortion. She agreed to go with me to the clinic.

Abortion day rolled around, and my friend called me to let me know she was having car trouble and couldn’t get to me. I went in to talk to the very nice clinic counselor, who talked to me about my options. I started crying because I did not want to have to make the choice, and I did not want to be there alone without a supportive shoulder. They refused to do the procedure on me since I was so unsure. I rescheduled, then listened to the two messages my boyfriend left on my phone. The first was that he skipped classes that day because he didn’t feel like going due to snow. The second was that he did not want me to go through with it.

I was feeling weird about the procedure, and I made the mistake of telling my very pro-life friend. She set me up with a priest, who gave me lots of pro-life literature. Then he took me to dinner the night before, and we talked more about my two choices (in his eyes, these were ‘have the baby and keep it’ and ‘have the baby and adopt it out’). I asked him, “If God kills babies why can’t I?” He told me that was an awful question. I went to go throw up because my morning sickness was insane. Then he told me I was selfish.

The next day I went to the clinic. My boyfriend met me there, and we went back to the same counselor. We discussed the options but I said I wanted an abortion, and I wanted a medical abortion. I went into the waiting room, and talked to a girl who was a 13 year old rape victim, there with her mother. Her mother had the saddest eyes I have ever seen, and I wanted to cry for them both. I sat there, trying to stay focused, which was hard because my boyfriend kept saying he didn’t want to have the abortion. I was apprehensive, and I asked that my boyfriend stay with me though the process. They let him come into the recovery room- normally men-free except for the doctor in order to keep rape victims calm- because it was almost closing time and I was the only patient left.

I took the pill and promptly freaked out. A nice nurse took me into a room and talked to me about how I might be freaking out, but that I would come to be happy with my decision when I saw what my choice meant for my life- that I would be able to travel, continue school, and parent when and if I wanted to when I was prepared to do so. I realized this was true and calmed down.

My boyfriend and I went out for pizza afterwards, when he told me he still loved me and thought I was still beautiful. He of course did not come back to my dorm with me, because he had work the next day.

The next day, I woke up and gathered food for my day, when I knew I wouldn’t be much able to move around. I went to the bathroom, washed my hands, went to my room, locked the door, set out my food, put on a pad and inserted the pills that would induce the miscarriage. I went to sleep but was woken up half and hour later by the worst cramps I’d ever had. It was quite an unpleasant day, though I was not, for the first time in a long time, nauseous.

Over the next three weeks, I bled a lot. I had cramps often, though only one night were they so bad I couldn’t sleep- also the night I vomited up the pain relievers. Really, though, for most of the time it was more like the first day of a period, only many days straight. My only problem was that my boyfriend was growing more distant, as were the two friends I told. He made me feel guilty for my choice. A month after the procedure, he broke up with me.

In the end, though, once I got away from the toxic atmosphere of my boyfriend I started to realize that abortion saved me. I started to appreciate the fact that I was able to go to a great college. I liked being able to eat without throwing up. I liked being able to do whatever I wanted. I was relieved not being tied to that man forever.

In the end, I am so not sorry for my decision. I am about to graduate from my fantastic college after (as the nurse had suggested) spending a semester abroad. I have a new and supportive (and pro-choice!) boyfriend. I have an appreciation for Roe vs. Wade and I recently joined my school’s pro-choice club because I want to make sure abortion stays legal forever. I also want to get rid of the social stigma attached to the procedure, because I think what messed me up wasn’t the abortion but the way other people were mean to me because I had one. Most importantly, my abortion was the first choice I ever really made entirely by myself, for myself. Maybe I’ll have kids one day, maybe I won’t. But when I make that choice, it will be my choice- not a man’s, and not the government’s.