Aurie | West Tennessee

As I sat holding and staring at the pregnancy test with those seemingly BOLD, two pink lines; I remember asking myself one very distinct question, “How could I, would I explain?” I was a 30 year old full-time college student, a single-mother of a beautiful soul, and working two jobs. I was exhausted on a daily basis, as is, barely able to make ends meet at times and struggling to find balance as a single parent. I was smarter than this, Right? After all, I was a non-traditional college student with “life experience” under my belt. Old enough to know better! Over the next several days, I tossed questions and statements like these around in my head wondering, “how could I have been so “irresponsible”?” About a week later, I accepted that I had a decision to make about the life that had been created inside of MY body. I replayed those same phrases that rang in my head that day I found out I was pregnant reminding myself that I was a college student working toward my goals, a provider, and most importantly already a Mother. I knew in that moment that, for me, becoming a single mother again was not in the best interest of myself or my child. Mentally, emotionally, and financially I knew I could not manage the responsibilities of being a single mother of two. You could insert judgement here, but there would be no need because I already have judged myself far beyond what you could administer. I asked myself all the questions of morality that one could conjure. Cried when none of the answers soothed the idea of terminating the pregnancy more than the last. Fought with myself about even questioning the existence God’s flawless creation. Screamed out loud to myself knowing that having this child was the wrong decision for me, but the “right thing” to do by the world’s man made standards. On the day of the operation, my anxiety did not ease. I STILL contemplated running out of the doors as I filled out paperwork to pay for this “horrible” act I was about to commit; as I left my best friend in the waiting room and the privacy door shut and locked behind me; as I waited in the private waiting room with other women crying, laughing, then crying again; as I hesitantly answered, “Yes” when the ultrasound technician asked if I’d like to keep the ultrasound pictures; as I sat in the service room for what seemed like a thousand hours listening to every tick of the clock, every voice in neighboring rooms, every single footstep, every nearly drowned out expression of pain and sorrow by the same women that had been in the private waiting room with me; and even as the Doctor and nurse and support aide entered to begin the procedure but I stayed. In the coming months, I questioned MY decision, cried, screamed, slept with the ultrasound pictures under my pillow, became tense at the sight of babies, hugged and kissed my child in desperate attempts to “apologize” for the lack of a sibling; I also knew. I knew that while no law maker, congressman, senator, mayor, judge, father, mother, neighbor, co-worker, cousin or friend could explain why life would present such a painful and definite conflict in decision making neither could they judge that decision. Everyday I live with the Spirit of my unborn child, some of those days I am sad, but I have peace in my decision to terminate my pregnancy. I have peace because I no longer ask myself the question, “How do I explain”? because I know that MY decision is both My Truth and MY Story, not my explanation.

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