How to find the words? Are there enough to get anyone to fully comprehend the hell I have brought upon myself? I do not know the answer to this, yet I will give it my all.

At the ripe age of eighteen, I was in love with a boy. We had been together for about a year and I thought he was perfect. We were intimate pretty quickly, but I didn't regret it. I was on the pill, but we didn't use a condom. I got pregnant on June 5th, 2000.

I went to tell him only to find him on the floor with another girl and, well, they weren't just talking. But I had already decided I was going to have this baby come hell or high water. As you can probably tell, we got a flood! I was living with a roommate and we hit some really hard financial times. I had already told my mother I was pregnant, and will never forget the look of pure hurt on her face. About a week later, she came to our house and demanded I move home. We fought constantly over what I should or shouldn't do in regards to my child. I named her Kaylee, by the way. After a couple of weeks, and finding out truly horrible things about my boyfriend, I basically let myself be talked into an abortion.

Mom made me an appointment with Planned Parenthood and I didn't go. So, she made another. I got in the car with my mother and stepfather and off we went. I remember there being protestors outside and them hurrying us in through a private door.

I paid the $300.00 and signed the forms. Those damn yellow forms!!! I waited for my name to be called and have never been more scared in my life. The first thing they did was weigh me, blood pressure, and prick my finger. Then I waited again. I then got called to go to counseling-- what a joke that was. It is so easy to fake feelings, let me tell you. I then got another valium to help me relax. It did absolutely nothing. After what seemed an eternity, my name was called for the abortion.

I remember everyone being so nice and happy. I was thinking, what the hell do they have to be happy about, huh? I went into a small dark room and a nurse came in. She performed my ultrasound at that time. It was then determined that I was seven weeks and two days pregnant.

I remember the sound of the vacuum starting and then I just remember the pain, the pain I felt on every possible level. It was by no means only physical, it was deep, gut wrenching, emotional pain. I remember the sounds and the scraping and knowing in my heart I was no longer a mother.

The procedure didn't take long, yet in some ways it was my whole lifetime. I had to go to recovery for an hour to make sure I was okay. Let me tell you, I have NEVER been more NOT okay in my life. I cannot seem to let go. I cannot forget. I cannot forgive. I cannot quit remembering.