A big regret, or two

I'm sighing as I'm about to write this. I've had two abortions. I always thought, "It was the best decision; you had nothing to offer a child during either of those times." But I regret them. I have finally allowed myself to understand that. I'm sad about them, and wonder all the time how my life would be different, and if their little souls ended up in another body better able to take care of them.

I was 17 the first time. I was having unprotected ecstasy-induced sex with my 19 year old boyfriend, and we got pregnant. I didn't know it, at first. I was at boarding school, and just kept throwing up. I had to leave class all the time cause I was so sick. I just felt like shit. So I went to the clinic, and they knew immediately. They called my dad. Boy, was that a shitty ride home (resentment!). They asked me not to come back until I had the child/wasn't pregnant (resentment!).

My dad, being Catholic and a republican, told me I was going to have the baby. That was that. My boyfriend was really excited. He told his mom and she seemed actually excited, too. I was not. I was beside myself. How could this have happened (duh)? How could I have gotten myself into this situation? What was I going to do? In my state you had to be 18 or get a parent's permission to get an abortion, and at the time I was still Catholic enough to think that there was no way I could do it.

And then I had a moment: I realized that a 17 year old and a 19 year old bunch of druggies with no high school diploma between them could only end up fucking up a child. I knew I couldn't do it. So I convinced my boyfriend to take me to the Planned Parenthood in the next state. He was sad, and so was I. If you ever have to get an abortion, I have two things to tell you: don't look, and don't listen.

I started having these recurring dreams of a young blonde boy who had his back to me. He would stand there, and I would try to get him to turn around. I just wanted to see him, but he never would. And one day, he turned his head partway, I still couldn't see his face, but he said, "I forgive you." I never had that dream again.

But I'm still sad about it. If I had thought better of myself or my situation (he would have been loved, after-all), I might have gone through with it. But then my life wouldn't be like it is, which is how it's supposed to be. But I think it's my biggest regret. My biggest resentment against myself. I don't know how I'm ever going to forgive myself.

The second time I was 23 and a drunk. I was actually on birth control by then, but of course it's only 97% effective. Lucky us. My boyfriend at the time, well, I don't even remember his reaction. I just remember being petrified that I would have to do it again. Everything in me said, "Don't do it!" I wanted to have that child, I really did. But something else in me said, "You're a fucking loser who can't even take care of yourself. What the hell would you do with a child?" And so I did it. I, again, asked a boyfriend to be complicit in this act, and I went to the very same Planned Parenthood. Thank God they didn't judge me. I couldn't have handled criticism at that time.

And so these are my biggest resentments against myself. Aborting children I very well could have had, and wanted in my own little way. I would have a 13 year old and a 7 year old right now. I think about them all the time. I worry now, will I ever be able to have kids? Will God punish me since I didn't learn my lesson the first time? Maybe one day I'll find out, but I know one thing, any child that comes to me now will be wanted, loved, and never taken for granted.