I was petrified to tell my parents

I was 19, dating a resident in podiatry. I loved him intensely. I became pregnant even though we had faithfully used condoms. I was petrified to tell my parents who were Christians and didn't even know I was sexually active. I was supposed to begin nursing school that fall. My boyfriend who had been raised Catholic, never once offered to marry me. Because of all those factors, I chose to kill my child.

Physically, it was very easy. I was close to the end of my first trimester. They put me to sleep so I didn't feel the pain. I remember being very frightened, but I joked with the anesthetist and doctor before. I don't remember the doctor's name or anything about his face. I'd like to know so I could write him and tell him how devastated I eventually became years later.

I totally walled myself off from emotionally reacting to [the abortion]. I didn't grieve, or cry or feel guilt, for nine years after the abortion. But during that time, I was promiscuous. When I did find good, loving Christian men who really loved me, I rejected them. I think I didn't feel that I deserved their positive love. I broke up with the boyfriend who impregnated me.

In 1979, I became pregnant again. Everyone attempted to persuade or force me to abort. But I received counseling from some pro-lifers in Philadelphia and read a book on abortion techniques and I chose life for my baby. He is a precious 11-year-old, "A" student in a Christian school. I also became involved in the Pro-Life Movement in 1985 -- via education, lobbying, sidewalk-counseling. I am now an expert on abortion.