My boyfriend, who was wonderful, kind and compassionate, had just moved to another city for graduate school and had left on a long family trip before matriculating. I was pretty far away from my family and anyone else I thought could be compassionate to my situation. I couldn't even bring myself to call Planned Parenthood, and I had no knowledge of any other abortion clinics in the area. I didn't even know if I was going to be able to pay for it. When I finally did work up the nerve to call Planned Parenthood, I got an automated voice system. I hung up.

During this time, I was hysterical. I couldn't concentrate at work--at all. My bosses were not very understanding--they didn't really care that I seemed distraught, so I left my job. I called my parents up and told them to come get me. They were great but they had no idea what was going on. I felt better that I was at home but I still didn't know how I was going to get an abortion.

About a week later I decided to pick up the phone again. I really thought I was going crazy--no one can handle this alone mentally without someone compassionate to talk to. I wound up talking to a woman at Planned Parenthood and bursting into tears when her kind voice told me it was going to be ok. To this day I am eternally grateful to her and I wish I could do something nice for her because she saved my life, literally and figuratively. I wish she could know that what she did made a difference.

So based on my insurance situation and how far along I was, I wound up having to go to a clinic that was five hours from my house. I still hadn't told anyone and didn't think I could--I thought my parents would disown me. My boyfriend had just started graduate school and I didn't want to worry him, so I just decided to do it on my own. I gathered up all the savings I had and set off on my hellish journey.

After being shuffled to another clinic, I found out that my insurance didn't cover the procedure (which was going to take two to three days depending on how my cervix dialated on its own). I had never had a sonogram in my life, and the jelly was cold and awful. Everyone in the clinic had someone but me. I was alone, and heartbroken. I was scared that I would be one of the freakish few who died during the procedure and my parents would find out that I had died during an abortion. Every possible awful thought went through my mind.

So I went home again--the drive was even longer than it had been on the way there. My boyfriend called me and instantly knew something was wrong. The second I was home and in the comfort of my own bed, I told him.

He was amazing and incredibly supportive. He knew my hesitation to tell my parents and told me that he would help me and be there for me in any way he could. We started to make arrangements to go back to the clinic.

While we were making arrangements, my mom quietly told me that she thought I was pregnant. I was touched by her compassion and told her everything. She was so great. We made the journey to the clinic together, and met up with my boyfriend there.

So I was back at the clinic and terrified that I was actually going through with this. All sorts of thoughts went through my mind--whether I was making the right decision, whether I would ever be able to have children after this, whether my child would have been healthy and happy despite the adverse events of the pregnancy. Every time I felt a flutter of life in my belly, I cried. I cried every five minutes and I would fall down midstep, overwhelmed by stress and emotion.

Once I was finally approved for the procedure, I was brought upstairs in the clinic to the operating room. It was freezing. I had to change into a navy blue cotton robe and put hospital socks and a hair net on. I put all my belongings in a plastic bag. A nurse took my blood pressure and weighed me. I then waited an houir and a half before someone called my name.

When they did, my heart skipped a beat. I was so scared. I followed a nurse into a bright yellow operating room and laid down on the table while she stuck EKG monitors all over my chest. She left the room and I had to wait in there for a few minutes alone. The whole time I was shaking, I was so scared. I kept asking the Lord to give me strength--I haven't prayed in years, but He answered my prayers and He gave me strength. The nurse came back. She then sent me back to the waiting room again.

The second time was for real. I went with a nurse to another operating room, and put my legs in stirrups and waited for the doctor to come in. THe nurse was very kind, talking to me, holding my hand. The anesthesiologist came in and kindly introduced himself to me. The doctor came in and explained the procedure to me. He was very kind. They all were. Then he told the anesthesiologist that I could go to sleep, and my world went black.

I woke up in the recovery room with cramps that I hadn't felt in months. I could tell that I was bleeding. A nurse was holding my hand and helping me slowly sit up. When I was ok to sit up, I stepped gingerly into the discharge area and ate some crackers and drank hot chocolate. I got dressed and the nurses gave me some strong antibiotics and told me to come back at 8 the next morning to hopefully finish the procedure if the laminaria had dialated my cervix enough.

That afternoon my boyfriend flew in and he and my mom and I had dinner in our hotel room. We were actually in ok spirits--trying not to talk about stuff. I wasn't bleeding and felt all right. THat night my boyfriend and I stayed in a room by ourselves and held each other the whole night. I had some cramps and was in a bit of pain. He held me the whole time.

THe next morning we went back to the clinic for what I thought was the last day of the procedure. My mom and my boyfriend were both holding my hands and I was crying while I was waiting--I knew by that point that my baby was dead and it was just a matter of taking it out. When they called my name and went upstairs, I had to do it all over again--the freezing cold waiting room, the blue hospital gown, the plastic bag. Same yellow operating room. This time, I thought, it would all be over. The same anesthesiologist, holding my hand as he put the needle in and apologizing if it hurt, the doctor telling him it was ok to put me to sleep. And my world went black again and I prayed that it would all be over.

I awoke that second day in the recovery room in terrible pain. I asked the nurse if it was over and she told me that I had one more day. I just started crying--I couldn't stop. I didn't want to carry around a dead baby in my belly for a whole day. I was bleeding pretty badly--apparently the laminaria had worked that time. I kept cramping up. When I was finally discharged my mom wasn't there--I had told her to go get something to eat but I didn't know I would be done so soon. So I waited in the lobby for an hour and cried. We tried to go out to lunch but I was in horrible pain. I spent that afternoon and evening in the hotel room in awful pain, taking lots of Tylenol PM to try to alleviate everything.

The next morning I knew it was going to be over, and I was actually in a pretty good mood because of that. Going up to the operating waiting area was no big deal. The doctor and I had quite a nice chat before I fell asleep, and I was incredibly grateful to him and all the nurses and everyone for helping me.

When I woke up, it was over. And I felt great. A nurse came to ask me how I was doing and I said that I was feeling pretty good, and she told me that they had given me a shot of morphine. Once I had stopped bleeding heavily I was able to eat and take my medication and get dressed. I felt light and thin. I met my mom downstairs and we drove home that afternoon.

The weeks that followed were awful. I had to hide it all from my dad. I felt empty. The hormonal change alone was enough to send me through the roof every five minutes. I saw my child in my dreams. I had violent panic attacks and I slipped into a deep depression.

It has been three months now since the abortion and despite the living hell I have been through, I'm not sorry. I know that my baby was not healthy--I had been drinking and not taking care of myself while I didn't realize I was pregnant. I am young, and so is my boyfriend. WE love each other and he has been amazingly supportive, but we were not ready to be parents. I will always hold my child in my heart and I know that it knows that I made the best decision for both of us. I have since told my father and though he still does not agree with abortion he supports my decision and loves me and is there for me. God has helped me through all of this, and I know that He does not expect me to be sorry for my decision. My regular doctor has been awesome and has given me some antidepressants to help me deal with the whole thing, and I am so lucky that I have people who love me that help me through every day. I've been looking for support groups for months now and all I find are anti-choice websites that want to make women feel bad about their choices and don't respect and honor what a difficult decision it is. I just found this website a few days ago and I want to thank everyone for sharing their stories--you are all amazing women and we are all linked together through this common and tough experience. I know this is long but I am just hoping that there is someone out there who, like me, was just looking for an experience similar to hers so she knows that she is not alone. And if you are out there, know that I am thinking about you and that we are in this together.