My abortion decision was pro-life

Here I was watching all this, and I had to think to myself: I’m already going to be a high-risk pregnancy. How much more of this can I bear? I wondered when these people would stop, leave me alone, let me feel as though my children are safe? What would life look like after this? I had no answers. I didn’t know whether I’d be employable when the dust settled—and I was the breadwinner. I had two children whose lives were my responsibility already.

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I could not welcome a child into the world with joy, and I didn’t know when the people who hated what they thought I represented would decide that my children were more important than their chance to score a point on the Internet. I made a decision, then a phone call.

I didn’t know where to go. I knew that every minute counted, that at some point I would have waited too long, and this little potentiality inside me would be stuck with whatever damage I had done it when I didn’t eat, couldn’t sleep well, couldn’t stop panicking.

Mommy would be called unfit.

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