I was 16 years old when my relationship had started with my ex boyfriend. I was very young and immature. Having a boyfriend at the time was considered to be “cool” hence fitting in with friends, and the social demands that high school had to offer. He was very sweet but abusive at the same time. It took me exactly five years to realize that he wasn’t the one for me. So I broke the relationship of. Now I am 22 and it has been one year since our break up.

A month after we stopped dating, I found out I was pregnant. I was at school when I took the pregnancy test. I could not believe it.

Instead of getting the rush of joy in my body, my life had come to a stop. The school bell was drumming in my ears and tears were running down my face. At the heat of the moment I could already feel and sense the pain and agony of an abortion.I was still living at home with my mum and step-dad.

When my mum found out she said I should have an abortion, because the guy would be in my life for the rest of my life. She did not want me to be miserable for the rest of my life. My step dad finding out about the situation was another war on its own.When I had confronted my best friend she also told me to have an abortion. She said it was no big deal and that she had one before.

She even told me that she would pay for it. I didn’t understand…why and how aborting a life, and unborn life could be so simple? All those unborn aborted children don’t they deserve a life? A life to live? I had too many questions unanswered in my mind. Putting all my morals aside I had realized and thought about the hardships and pains if I did not go through this abortion.

My best friend and another girl met me at the abortion clinic. I went in, and they did an ultrasound. They would not let you see the screen. I was not put to sleep because I was told it was better not to be.

I remember everything about that day. It was horrifying. I remember thinking that I had just murdered my child. When I was leaving the clinic, and saw my best friend, the first words I said to her was that she lied to me, and I hated her. But what I really meant was that I hated myself.

It has been 1 years, and I still remember that day like it was yesterday. I have had lots of anger and regret from this. I could not tell you how many times I have asked God to forgive me. I was very upset one night, and I was talking to my husband (he is very loving and understanding), and he said, “God forgave you the first time you asked, now you need to forgive yourself.”