This is a letter I wrote to my baby. Although I never knew his gender, I named him Michael anyway.

Dear Michael,

I was a single mother and found out I was pregnant shortly after getting out of a relationship. I panicked. The few people I told said abortion was the only sensible option given my situation. The clinic even had brochures from religious groups that supported abortion. I convinced myself that what I was doing was okay, even though I knew deep down that it wasn't. I remember only a couple of details from the procedure. It was extremely painful, but the part I remember most was sitting up on the table and begging them to stop. The doctor told me that it was too late, but it really wasn't. Instead of getting up off that table and walking out I let them continue. I could have stopped it all, but I didn't. I went into the bathroom after it was all done, and when I saw my reflection in the mirror I was disgusted and looked away. I fell to my knees and sobbed, asking, "Oh Lord, what have I done?"

That was back in 1999. It still hurts today. There's not a day that goes by where you don't cross my mind. I'm so, so sorry. I would give anything to give you back the life I allowed to be taken from you. I was selfish. I could have put you up for adoption, but I didn't. I'm so sorry. After I let you go, God blessed me with twins. I've never felt worthy of that blessing. God also blessed me with a little boy after the twins. Why couldn't I see you as a blessing until it was too late? I have no excuse or explanation for what I did to you. I talked to a priest shortly afterward. He told me you were with Jesus and that you are okay. Just know that I'm so sorry. He told me to give you a name, and I chose Michael. I don't know why I chose that name, but it was the first one that came to my mind.

Abortion leaves invisible scars and an emptiness that can never be filled. There are two times every year that are very painful for me.  January and February (when I first learned about you and then let you go) and September, when I would have been able to hold you had I not let you go. I'm sorry.