Read Part One here.
Why am I telling this story in two parts? Because this is the part I didn't know if I could tell.
I've said before that part of the reason I placed my daughter for adoption was because I felt guilty that I could get pregnant so easily when there were women out there who desperately wanted babies but couldn't get pregnant.
But I felt guilty for another reason. I had already had one abortion.
I was sixteen years old and on track to be valedictorian of my class. Then, I found out that I was pregnant.
I was captain of the soccer team, a part of choir, president of the school's community service club. I was working hard to make the best of high school so that I could hopefully go to college on a full scholarship. I couldn't have a baby.
I had a boyfriend. We were in agreement. I would have an abortion.
I didn't tell anyone I was pregnant. In fact, if anyone who knows my real identity reads this blog today, they will be the first people I know in real life to find out. I went to court to get permission to go ahead without my parents' consent. I got my dad to switch my bank account over to my name only so I could withdraw the $300 I needed. I was lucky to be a good student. My dad called me out of school whenever I wanted so it was easy to miss the days I needed.
A girl I barely knew took me to the clinic. I was put to sleep. After, I went back to my boyfriend's house to recover. Life went on.
I have no regrets. I don't feel sad about it. I don't feel guilty. My abortion was a million times easier to get over than the placement of my daughter.
I kept playing soccer, played the lead in the school musical, and I did graduate as valedictorian of my high school class.
I did fantasize sometimes about walking at graduation with my baby. But I wasn't stupid. A baby was the last thing I needed. I'm so thankful I had that choice.