Submitted by: P

There aren’t many days that go by where I don’t think about the one I gave up. I wanted this baby. I was in fact thrilled for this baby.

Everyone has a story — I’ll spare those details.

I made a decision based in fear, not relying on any way on God, outside of begging him to change my circumstances so I wouldn’t feel confronted with the only two choices I felt I had — change my husband’s heart so I wasn’t raising and supporting yet another child without the support of its father, or have an abortion. I make enough to support myself plus one comfortably. I could not and would not bring another child into this world that I would not be able to support just as comfortably, or that my first child would have to sacrifice for. That didn’t feel fair to anyone. God did not change his heart. I felt like the choice was made for me. I saw no other way.

There really just isn’t any kind of grief or sorrow, fear or regret that is quite like this. February 22 my baby would be celebrating its 2nd birthday. I don’t think I’ll ever not know how old the baby would be, in any year that passes. I worry about the day I meet it in heaven, assuming I make it. I know that God forgives. I know the baby would, too. But really I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.

I made what I thought was the most logical and responsible decision I could at the time, with the information I had. But there will likely never come a time that I would ever choose the same way. There just isn’t anything to prepare you for how this feels. The yearning for the baby, the loneliness and feeling like no one understands the regret (how could they unless they’ve been through it), the fear of what lies ahead having taken a life (this is not for debate), the fear that my only child will remain an only, and be left to deal with my passing away by herself because I didn’t give birth to her sibling — because why would God give me another one when I already gave up the one he blessed me with?

Sometimes I feel like I’ve made my peace. Forgiven myself. I forget that forgiveness is a daily practice, especially when there is real remorse. But the guilt, man. The guilt eats at my heart and my soul. One day I’ll be free. I feel like there’s a way to make amends but I’ve not yet been shown what to do. Maybe share my story so others know how it might feel if they make the same decision. Not to influence their decision, because I do believe in personal choice, but to tell the story from the trenches.