I was at the top of my class, drum major of the high school band, working 40 hours a week at two jobs a teenager would love, and had loving friends. After I came back from political camp, and then band camp, and still hadn't had my period, I knew someting was wrong.
I took a pregnancy test. It was positive. The next morning I took three more pregnancy tests in the bathroom of Kmart. They were positive.
I went straight to my boyfriend's apartment and I lay in bed and cried for hours, and he held me and just said "oh my God, what are we going to do?" He was 21 and I was 17, and this was something we'd never planned for ourselves.
He wanted me to have an abortion. The soonest I could get an appointment was two weeks from then, on July 14th. In the next two weeks, I puked so many times I can't count. I had terrible morning sickness, and I hid it all from my mom. I went to court so my mom wouldn't find out. I raised the $450 dollars by doing overtime at work. I grew so attached to the baby inside of me, I didn't want to go through with it, but my boyfriend wanted me to. He drove us to Des Moines, to the Rosenfield Center.
I was seven weeks and five days pregnant. I have a copy of the ultrasound. I did the blood prick, I took valium, I aborted. I was the only girl who left the clinic crying. I was the only one who looked guilty and I was the only one who didn't laugh in the recovery room.
Three days after my abortion, my boyfriend told me we weren't a good match and left me before I stopped bleeding. I lay in my bed and cried for a week, and my mom never found out. I hold this abortion deep in my heart. I can't lay in the dark because I feel so alone.