I love my kids dearly and love to talk about how our relationships have healed and grown, but this morning, I want to talk about the few who didn’t make it.
When I was in high school, I got pregnant. If I remember correctly, I was seventeen. I won’t give too many details about this time of my life because it was heartbreaking, and I still haven’t figured out how to write about family without offending family. I know, I know…I need to get over that, but until I do, I’ll leave what was going on in my life out. I’ll just tell you a few things.
I was living with my sisters.
I was in my senior year.
I was sleeping with (at least) two different people.
Needless to say, the possible fathers didn’t want the baby. I was going to school and working to pay the rent. And on top of all that, I had been throwing up about seven times a day. It was too much for me, so I decided to have an abortion. Continue reading