Hi, my name is Heather.

I became pregnant at fifteen years old, and I had an abortion when I was sixteen.

While other girls my age were celebrating their sweet sixteen birthdays and stepping into womanhood with excitement, I was lying on an abortion table, ending the life of my first child. That was my tragic entrance into womanhood.

To understand why, you need to know a little about my story. When I was nine, my parents divorced, and my world fell apart. I went from a home that felt safe to a life that felt unstable and lonely. My family was in survival mode, and emotionally, I was on my own. I went to church, but I didn’t yet have a personal relationship with Jesus or know how to bring my pain to Him.

I was desperate to feel loved and chosen, and I began looking for that in relationships at a very young age. By the time I was fifteen, I was in a serious relationship and became pregnant during the summer before my junior year of high school.

I was terrified. I was still a child myself. I wanted to finish school, and I didn’t know what resources were available or who I could depend on. I was too afraid to tell my parents. Eventually, my dad noticed I was sick and confronted me. He told me he would support whatever decision I made, but he also encouraged me to have an abortion and offered to pay for it. Feeling scared and overwhelmed, I agreed.

On that day, I skipped school for the first time in my life. I lied to my brother and my mother, telling them I was sick, which, by the end of the day, wasn’t much of a lie. My boyfriend and his sister picked me up, and we drove to the clinic. What I remember most is sitting in the waiting room while his sister asked me over and over if I was sure, telling me it was okay to change my mind. Now, I wish I would have listened to her.

I remember feeling sad that I wasn’t shown the sonogram screen. I wanted to see it, but that memory is hazy. As far as being in the procedure room, I have no memory at all.

What I do remember clearly is coming home afterward, lying in bed with my boyfriend, and crying for hours. Any sense of relief I expected never came. Instead, I felt deep regret and a sadness I didn’t know how to name. I knew something had been taken from me, something I could never get back. Nobody else was home, and my boyfriend had to leave before my mom and brother came home. That silence, the quiet, empty house, made the weight of what had happened feel even heavier.

In the years that followed, I carried my abortion in silence. I didn’t tell my mother at the time, and for many years afterward, I kept my secret hidden. I tried to move on, but the grief stayed with me. I struggled with shame and self-blame for my abortion, and although I longed to be fully known, I feared rejection if the truth came out. I wanted people to see the real me and accept me, but I felt trapped behind a mask.

As time went on, the silence affected my faith and how I saw myself. I knew that God forgave me, but I could not forgive myself. In refusing to forgive myself, I was actually rejecting the forgiveness God was offering me, and that realization twisted my heart for years.

I finally shared my secret with a trusted friend. She prayed for me and encouraged me to share my story with my mom. That conversation was the first step in bringing my abortion out of hiding and into the light. Later, I met a woman in a small group who shared her own abortion story and invited me to participate in Surrendering the Secret. Through that study, and later through attending a Deeper Still retreat, my healing journey truly began.

For the first time, I was given permission to grieve my child. I learned that God was not surprised by my story, and He was not repulsed by my pain. He met me there. I received His forgiveness, and slowly, I began to forgive myself. I named my child Kiley Marie, honoring her life and acknowledging my loss.

Today, I no longer live in secrecy. My abortion does not define me. God’s redemption does. He took one of the most painful experiences of my life and transformed it into a testimony of His love, forgiveness, and peace.

God’s redemption is bigger than my abortion, and that is why I am Silent No More.