I think that my story actually begins at age 12 or 13. I was born and raised in California and was a young aspiring actress. The local Planned Parenthood held auditions each year for young actors, and I auditioned two years in a row before burning out on acting.
On at least one, or both, of those auditions I received a call-back. The competition was stiff, and I was among (if not) the youngest of those participating in the hours-long, interactive, and intimate auditions.
They were fun auditions to participate in, especially being one of the youngest among older children. I watched the Planned Parenthood after school television programs on the public television channel and aspired to be in them myself one day.
Obviously, I was raised "pro-choice" in secular family. I remember that my mom said that, though she was "pro-choice", she didn't believe that abortion should be used as a form of birth control. I guess that she and I should have spoken about that because, for the longest time, I'm not sure that I ever took the time to comprehend what she was saying beyond the words "pro-choice."
I became pregnant after two years of separation but before my divorce was finalized, as a single mother of three young children (ages 3, 5, and 6) at age 25.
I knew that I was pregnant from the moment of conception with my boyfriend, and I felt only fear, guilt, and shame from that moment. I knew immediately in my panicked mind that the only "responsible" thing to do was to have an abortion. I had to wait seven weeks from conception. I never mentioned anything to anyone. I was being "strong."
My boyfriend at the time, and the father of the child, was "supportive" and had already aborted a child with another woman previously. He was with me when I went to have the abortion. When the tech did the ultrasound, she suggested, “You might want to roll over and not look at the ultrasound." I dutifully obeyed, figuring she knew best, though I wish now that I had not.
I wish that I had spoken to anyone other than my boyfriend and the clinic. I told my mom about it years later, and she was obviously hurt and upset by it. At the time of the pregnancy, I thought that, by not telling her, I was protecting her. After telling her, I knew that I had deprived her of being able to protect me and my baby. I know now that if I had told her, I would not have been deceived into paying for the murder of my own child.
As soon as the child was taken from my body, and the nitrous oxide wore off, I went into full on hysteria like I've never experienced before or since. I disturbed the entire "recovery room", a room that turned out to be much larger than I had imagined it would be.
The biggest mistake I've ever made was having consensual sex out of wedlock and thinking it was normal. The next biggest was having an abortion. Next was two episodes of taking the morning after pill, out of fear and panic about whether I was pregnant or not. I took the two morning after pills a few years of the abortion because of pride and a lack of self-respect. I never wanted a man to say that I somehow "trapped" a man into being a dad or otherwise ruined his life by getting pregnant.
If I could go back, I would choose to never sin against my body in any way whatsoever. Probably never having been sexually molested as a child would have made respecting myself, and my body, a lot easier. I didn't know that I had been molested by an adult until I was in my 40s, though there were numerous signs.
I am happy to share my story with anyone who might benefit from hearing any part of it. I would love to encourage young men and woman to wait until marriage to have sexual relations, to repent if they have already sinned or, if it is too late for both, to assure anyone considering abortion that ALL other options are far better—because nobody should have to die.
If I lived in a big city, I think it might not be so difficult to be of help. As it is, I live far away from most people, but I'm willing to do what I can to make a difference in any way that I might be able.