I'm so sorry to hear that you're feeling bad but you're not alone. I can strongly recommend this site: www.Passboards.Org (all lower case letters)

it is a non-judgemental site for women who regret their abortions to support each other and help each other heal. It's not religious or pro-life so there's no guilt trip, just women like you.

I wish you all the best.

Thank you purest green. I will check out that website tomorrow when I have more time. I appreciate you taking the time to send it to me. I had no idea what this site was like, just happened to come across it while I was searching for help. It's a start anyway.

This place has some nice people but there's really not enough people on this board for you to get the support you need in my opinion. Hope you find the other site helpful - I tend to 'lurk' there as I haven't had an abortion myself but have had both friends and family members that have.

hi chrisferg,

i am sorry about your situation! It is rough regretting this kind of decision. I think the board purestgreen recommended is good, and you may want to even find a person or a counselor to talk with in person as well. I have read of abortion support groups available (depending on where you live). You could also call the clinic you used and see if they have any recommendations.

Best of luck to you!!!

As they said above, there aren't a lot of women on this site, and many of us are young.

I can give a little bit of advice, if you'd like, though!

Lavish the children you already have; you did this for them, so give them the love you can! Cherish them; they're going to love you unconditionally!


You are not a bad person at all! You made a very hard desicion, for the greater good of your already-born children; and it is a very noble, pragmatic, loving, and mature choice.

Chrisferg

sounds like some good website recommendations and probably talking with a professional is best advice.

Having said that, I will tell you my personal experience with any moments of regret over the past 35 yrs. I had an abortion at 20 weeks when I was 15 in 1973 - abortion had just been legalized.

Have I had regrets? Yes. I have also been glad, relieved, reflective - you guessed it - every emotion you can imagine. (partly it is because the abortion was late term and I could feel strong movement for a month or so prior to the abortion. I subsequently had an abortion several years later at 11/12 weeks and for me, there was a huge difference emotionally between the two. I rarely if ever have had any regrets about that second abortion and feel it was the right decision and have to admit I rarely think about it. The late term abortion, for me was different.

Whenever I did have those moments/times of regret, I would come full circle and remind myself to have faith in my decision making and the circumstances of my life at the time. What was my state of mind then? What were the reasons? It is easy to regret decisions (abortion and otherwise) when your circumstances change. I have found my moments of regret surface about this abortion when I was older and financially and emotionally ready for a baby. For me, those periods of regret were then followed by periods of knowing I had done the right thing. I don't think people's feelings are constant. You may very well feel differently next week/month etc.

But I don't have to tell you that a person can drive themself crazy second guessing themselves about every decision in life that they make if they do this. I regret not marrying so and so, regret selling that stock, regret that I drank that evening or fell asleep behind the wheel and caused a car wreck that injured, killed someone, etc etc.

I'm sure a professional can help you work through this. I know you said that it wasn't given a great deal of thought but could that have been because you felt so sure about it at the time?

I would say - try to have confidence in yourself and your decision at the time. What is it that you regret? That you now actually want a baby at 41? Or what - a moral dilemma?

For me these all of these feelings all come and go in waves over time - yes regret sometimes as well as other emotions of relief and self assurance. It takes thought to deal with this and I hope you get the help and guidance you need.

I hope this helped.

(and for the record in case anyone thinks otherwise because I have admitted having regrets, ----i am pro choice.)

i had an abortion in december and ive been in denial about it till just now the only reason i got it because my mom and the guy we're just telling me that was all i could do and i did it and ive tried to commit suicide 4 times and its like i dont wanna live anymore i dont wanna talk smile eat sleep or breathe

Hi AmandaKay704 and welcome to ehealth....May I ask you, how old are you?

Caroline

im 19 ill be 20 in april but everyday i get sick to my stomach because of what happened i cant even look at people in their eyes because im afraid if i do then they'll know.

Amanda I think you have more problems than just the abortion and you will definatly need to talk to a dr or a counsellor to assist you with them!

Dear AmandaKay704:

Like the poster above me said, you should see a Doctor or Therapist...These may just be wasted words that I write, but they are my thoughts...

When you keep a child, it must be out of want...Not just your want, but the other people involved in this...You need help...You were not getting it with your boyfriend or your Mother...I guess if I was your Mother, I may have taken the same stand in life....Your boyfriend did not want this and it is such a big burden that no one with the exception of one that has accomplished this, can ever imagine...Your Mother saw this...You are young and could not see it...All you could see was the cute baby in your arms...Your flesh and blood...You could not look beyond this hard fact in life...I can....I know life and what you had ahead of you...

This post has made me wonder...I wonder if years ago during a leave that I would have let my sailor have his way with me?...What if I had gotten pregnant?...What if he would have married me or ran for cover?....I think he would have stayed, but I can tell you that our hot marriage would not be what it is today....This is a simple fact of life....We married and I had our first child at 22 years and 5 months....I still was too young...Second came at near 24 and the third at 28....The later age was the best....It takes that long to mature and turn into a woman....Believe me, it took many of my friends, who also married young, this long too...I could tell you stories of how hard it is bringing up kids....You are young...You are not ready....You did not kill a child, you gave yourself life....

I have a daughter....If she would have told me she was pregnant at this age and the boy did not want it, I would have done the same things that your Mother did....Not forced, but so strongly advised that she would have felt the vibes....I say this because I knew and know her lack of maturity at that age and she would have made a lousy Mother....Just like so many that you see nowadays....I believe there is one in jail in Florida right now for killing her own little girl....She was forced to keep it...She couldn't handle it....In many ways I feel that her Mother should be on trial right along side of her......

Thinking about this post makes me wonder if I had forced my husband to marry me, would I have written my Topic under Relationships and Marriage....It is titled "After 50 years, what our wonderful marriage has been"...I probably wouldn't even be posting at this site...

Walk tall and keep your head up....It is best to give life when it is wanted rather than not wanted.....You did no wrong....I send you all my love....Peace honey....

Caroline

P.S. I have 12 years of parochial school in back of me....

In that bathroom, I sat all alone, waiting for that little stick to show the two blue lines, indicating that I was pregnant. Even though I knew in my heart I was, just the confirmation that those positive blue lines brought made my heart sink. Could this be real? What was I going to do? I couldn't possibly keep this baby. There was no way. No way. What turned my stomach the most, besides the nausea I was experiencing night and day, was the thought of telling my mom that I was pregnant. What would she say? What would she do? Disown me? Neglect me? Judge me? She would surely be thoroughly and utterly disgusted and discouraged with me. After all, how careless and stupid must someone be to get pregnant out of wedlock? With a family of pro-lifers, it was always easy to agree with these beliefs, never thinking it would ever in a million years happen to me. Never thinking I would have to test the truth and love that stood behind my family's convictions and beliefs.

It was so much easier to think of this as a pregnancy, rather than a baby. Just a clump of cells is all this fetus was, right? That's what the pro-deathers want you to believe at least. It wasn't a baby, just a fetus. Like that is somehow supposed to make everything okay. It's somehow supposed to make the decision to kill your own child easier.

This couldn't possibly be happening to me. I knew then what I had to do...abort the very life growing inside me, the very life that I had made and sustained. Face the consequences of my actions, tell my parents and family what I had done, carry and deliver a baby, have shattered plans for my future, or possibly go through the pain that is sure to come with adoption? No. I simply couldn't. I was weak and vulnerable. I had no other choice..or so I thought. If I had known the inevitable pain, depression, sadness, and guilt that would follow, perhaps I would have chosen a different path. Perhaps I would have given my child a choice. Perhaps he would have been given his first inalienable right, his life. But, in the midst of my heartache and despair, I regret having to say that's not the choice I made.

I can't recall when I set the appointment up at the abortion mill...I refuse to call it a clinic. Was it the day I found out I was pregnant? Was it that week? So many of the details of those days I have blocked out of my mind. It seems easier that way...not having to face those horrible memories, not having to relive those heartwrenching emotions I experienced. Writing about these things is not exactly a pleasant experience to remember and relive. At some point in those following days after my whole world came crashing down on me from such a tiny blue positive sign, I called Planned Parenthood. I was at the father's house and I wanted him to call for me. I couldn't bare talking about the planned homicide of my own flesh and blood. I couldn't bare talking to these people that claimed to be working for the rights of women. I had gone my whole life not respecting these people that support death, and yet here I was, calling and asking them to aid and abet me in the killing of the life growing inside me.

On the phone, the people I came into contact with were so nonchalant and seemingly uncaring about the whole ordeal. They were involved with the homicide of precious, innocent blood daily, so it was just another day at the office for them. Could they really disconnect themselves that much from what they were doing? Did they really not see the magnitude of the sin they were involved in? Ripping innocent babies from their mother's wombs. Didn't they see that my world was crumbling? Everything as I knew it was crashing down around me. They didn't seem to notice.

I had to listen to a recorded message over the phone and get an access code in order to confirm the appointment. After about thirty minutes or so on the line with Planned Parenthood, it was set. That Friday, February 6th, at 8:30 a.m., I was going to drive to Charlottesville and kill my child. Wow. Kill my child...those are three words I never thought would be used in the same sentence. The appointment was set. That was that.

I was dreading that Friday morning, but at the same time, I was ready for it to come. I was ready for my life to get back to normal. Ready to feel normal again. Much of those days are a blur. A blur of heartbreak and lots and lots of tears. Waking up that morning, all I remember is the tears. Buckets and buckets of tears. Sleepless nights were spent, with agony at the depths of my heart and soul, rattling me to the core. It was the first thing I thought of whenever I awoke, and the tears would freely fall, against my will. I never thought I would have to deal with this. I never knew such pain was imaginable. I had never felt farther away from my Lord than I felt that week. I now know that the tears I've cried over this tiny life are a mere fraction that my Lord cried for me and my baby. His heart was utterly broken for me..and for my child. He was holding onto me, even when I was as far from Him as I have ever been.

I drove to Charlottesville that Friday morning, trying to diminish the gravity of what I was about to do. Trying to escape reality, I was living in my own world. I didn't want to admit the severity of my decisions and choices that had quickly caught up to me. On that Friday morning, I walked into the Planned Parenthood alone. I signed in and gave my identification to prove I was of age...of age to what? To decide if killing my baby was a good idea or not? After forcing myself to fill out the required paperwork, I sat and waited. They called me up a couple times to the front desk. Once to give me back my license. They had made a copy of it, I guess to make sure they couldn't get in any trouble for killing my baby. Another time to collect the three-hundred and fifty dollars it took to homicide. Is that the price of life? That's what it was about. Money. That's what everything's about. They are a paid assassins, hired to kill all the unwanted babies of the world.

Sitting in that waiting room, time seemed to pass so slowly. There were many other girls and women in there, many of them my age. I wondered what they were all in there for. Was it for the same thing as me? Were they in the agony I was in? If they were, some of them were doing a good job hiding it. One of the girls was talking loudly on her cell phone, about seemingly meaningless things. Is that really what she's worried about at a time like this? I noticed that the paperwork she had was the same that I had...she must be here for the same reason as me. Another girl was there with a couple of her friends, for support I guess. She needed encouragment and a voice telling her what she was doing was okay. Sitting across from me, I saw a girl that was fourteen, maybe fifteen tops. My heart sank. She was there with her father. He seemed angry and heartless. Was this his decision? Did she even have a say in the life of her own baby? Her eyes were filled with glossy tears, about to spill over. Her face was full of heartbreak and unspeakable pain. I knew what she was going through. But, she was so young. So fragile...She should have been protected. My heart still breaks as I picture this young girl whose innocence was ripped from her that day at Planned Parenthood. She should have never had to live with such a thing. Such a secret. I vividly remember every detail of her outfit and hair, as well as her painfilled eyes and agonized face. How can there be such hurt in this world? How could her father bring his own daughter there to kill his own grandchild?!

Soon, a woman called me back. I don't remember what she looked like. She gave me a cup and told me she needed a urine sample. After that was done, I was taken into a room in the back that looked like a room that would be in a doctor's office. I was told to remove my clothes from the waist down and given a gown to put on. An abortionist (I don't dare call her a doctor because doctor's give life, they don't take it) came in and gave me a vaginal ultrasound to confirm the pregnancy. She told me I was indeed pregnant and six weeks along. Not once was I asked if I wanted to see an ultrasound of the little life inside me. If I had been given that opportunity, perhaps I would have chosen life, rather than death. In fact, I'm almost certain I would have.

Then, I was taken into another room. A woman pricked my finger and took my blood. I had no idea what was going on or what would happen next. I was then told to go back to the waiting room. After a while, I was called back to meet with one of the counselors. I was taken up to another floor in an elevator and sat down in a big room with a desk in the corner. It looked like a recovery room, I guess where women went to "recover" physically after her abortion. As if physically recovery was all there was to be concerned about. The counselor talked with me for a while and answered any questions I had. At Planned Parenthood, they like to call an abortion, "terminating a pregnancy." I guess it's an easier choice of words than, "killing a baby." She told me there were some risks involved, but I shouldn't worry. Later though, I found out that these seemingly nonexistent risks were a lot greater than she led me on to believe. Many girls and young women have died from abortions, including the kind I got. She told me that I could have blood clots as big as a lemon, among other terrifying side-effects. Then she told me something that I still can't believe to this day. She told me that some initial sadness is normal, but after a couple days, if I'm still feeling depressed, that is not normal and I should seek some psychological counseling. So, apparently most women feel relief and maybe initial sadness, but are quickly able to get on with their lives, as if nothing ever happened. How wrong she was.

I was then taken into yet another room to have another vaginal ultrasound. This time, it was a man, which made me way more uncomfortable than I already was. I felt like I was on display. After this, I was told to leave for a couple hours because the abortionist wouldn't be there until later that afternoon. So, one of my friends came to pick me up and we went to McDonald's. I was too sick to eat. The nausea was overwhelming me. I kept choking on my tears, despite how much I was trying to remain calm. I remember riding down the rode, tears streaming down my face. I was shaking and crying uncontrollably. I had oversized sunglasses on, trying to hide how horrible I looked and how puffy my eyes were. The way I looked on the outside was a reflection of how I felt on the inside.

When I got back to the mill, I was taken upstairs to another waiting room. A smaller one, with several women already waiting in it. A soap opera was on a tiny television in the corner of the room. There were magazines on the table for us to look at. Oh yeah, I was really in the mood to look at stupid magazines or watch a dumb soap opera at a time like this. In the corner of the room, there was the fourteen year old girl waiting. There were women older than me, a couple younger than me, and the young girl. Everyone was talking leisurely. Some were even laughing and cracking jokes. I was listening, but I never said a word. I was trying my hardest not to cry. After some chatter, the fourteen year old made it known that she was also six weeks along, just like me. The older women's light-hearted attitudes seemed to make her feel better about her abortion. Some of the women were talking about how they had had previous abortions. Some already had children and couldn't afford another. Most were farther along in their pregnancy than I was, so were too far to have a medical abortion. They were waiting for a surgical abortion. They were waiting for a surgery to kill their baby and they were laughing. Maybe it's easier for women to dispose of their baby if they refer to it as a fetus or a blob of cells. Maybe it's easier to get rid of their baby before they can see their belly getting bigger or feel the baby kicking or moving. These girls were so nonchalant about what they were about to do. The mindless chatter, the laughter, the small-talk about their abortions all seemed so unnatural and so unbelievable. I can't help but think all the women in that room would have their babies right now if we had let them live. But, those children will never have their chance at life.

The abortionist took a long time getting to the mill that afternoon. We were all waiting to be fit into his busy schedule. Perhaps he was at a car dealership picking out his newest ride or doing who knows what with his lavish amount of money, made from slaughtering young, innocent blood. When he finally arrived, I was taken into a room and had to get undressed from the waist down. I waited and waited again. I was so nervous. I didn't know what to expect. I heard stuff going on in the room next to mine. The walls were paper thin. I could hear another woman and nurses, preparing for her surgery. I was sitting alone on an examination table that you would see in a regular doctor's office. It was the last time I would be alone with my baby safely growing inside my womb. A nurse that I had seen downstairs kept coming in my room and leaving again. She seemed to be getting the supplies ready for the abortionist.

After a while, he finally came in. He didn't have much time. He had one afternoon to perform all those abortions. Money was at stake. He didn't look like anything I would have expected him to look like. In fact, if I saw him on a street somewhere, I would think he looked like a normal man. He was a bit heavier set, bald, with red facial hair. There was a young, Asian woman with him. I guess she was observing what he was doing, so she would one day soon be able to run her own abortion mill. He did yet another vaginal ultrasound. Then the pill was administered. Once I took this first pill, I was required to take the next set. These pills were what would cut off all life supply to my tiny baby. He told me one last time what to expect and if I had any serious side-effects, I was to go to the emergency room. What were serious side-effects? What he told me I would be experiencing seemed pretty serious to me. They certainly weren't normal or natural. I was instructed to come back to the mill on February 17th, to make sure the pregnancy was "thoroughly terminated" and everything had gone smoothly.

I'm sharing my story so hopefully other girls in a similar situation will choose life. Don't believe what they tell you. You will never get over the pain of choosing to kill your own baby. The Lord has redeemed and restored me completely, but I will forever live with the pain and realization that I killed my child. Nothing can change that. I will never be able to hold my baby or see what he would have looked like or how his laugh would have sounded. One day, though, I will be with him in heaven and finally be able to hold him. He will finally be able to meet his mama. I never knew I could miss someone and love someone so much I never had the chance to meet. I long for that day. Praise Jesus that He gives me the strength to get through each day and has given me a passion to speak up for the unborn! A life is a life, no matter how little one is. This blog is dedicated to my little boy, who I have named John, which means 'God is gracious.' It is only God's grace that has set me free and forgiven me for what I have done. Without Him, I could never have found the healing and restoration that comes from letting Christ take over and do His work in us.