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My Story Of Abortion And Its Lasting Effects

Janae is willingly giving us permission to share her story so that others can realize there is hope in the midst of a difficult situation. All client experiences with Two Lines Pregnancy Clinic (formerly Advice & Aid Pregnancy Center) are kept with the highest confidence. The stories that are shared come from the real-life experiences that our clients, staff and volunteers had during their unplanned pregnancy.

Her name has been changed but her story is true.


Too Young To Be Pregnant!
I had been sexually active for two years, so by the time I was 16, I had convinced myself I could not get pregnant. Imagine my surprise when I missed a period.

Besides a missed period, I had some of the other symptoms as well. A friend directed me to a local “free clinic” where I was given a pregnancy test. Back in 1973 the clinic tests were not very reliable. The test was “inconclusive” and I was told to come back in a week. This happened two more times, so my boyfriend made an appointment with his doctor. The blood test they gave me was positive. I was already certain that I was pregnant, so this simply confirmed it for me.

I was actually happy to know that I was normal. However, this pregnancy was a really big problem. The clinic gave me a phone number to call to make an appointment to have an abortion. There was no other counseling. There were no crisis pregnancy centers (like Two Lines (formerly Advice & Aid)) for me to receive any kind of counseling.

My boyfriend offered to marry me, but was supportive if I chose to have an abortion. We discussed adoption, but I was not going to carry a baby for nine months only to give it away. That seemed inconceivable to me at the time. Later on, I would come to realize what a courageous choice making an adoption plan is. But at that point in my life, it felt like I would be abandoning my baby. I made the appointment for the abortion, but because the abortion clinic was busy, I had to wait two or three weeks. By that time, I would be nearing my second trimester.

I was young and naive. I thought I could keep this from my parents. I also thought I would need a fake ID to get the abortion, so all my attention was turned to getting that fake ID to present at the clinic. As it turned out, they never asked for ID. They only asked for the cash.

No Longer A Secret
Prior to all of this happening, my dentist had recommended that I have my wisdom teeth removed. On the way to the oral surgeon, my mom suddenly asked me if I was pregnant! I vehemently denied it. She dropped the subject as we arrived at the office. Up to that point, I had some nausea but no vomiting. My appetite was just not quite normal. The anesthesia they gave me during oral surgery made me quite sick. Back at home, trying to recover between bouts of vomiting, my mother again started grilling me about being pregnant. Weak and sick, I finally acknowledged it was true and asked her how she knew. She said that she could see all the signs. She didn’t take it well at all. She could not resist calling me all kinds of names and telling me how ashamed she was of me. She asked me what I planned on doing about it. I told her I wanted to have an abortion. A week later, after consulting with her sister (who, it turns out, had an illegal abortion) she said she would help me. She never told my dad. She was convinced he would force us to get married and she didn’t want that for me. I really believe she thought she was doing what was best for me.

A Horrible Experience
The day arrived. (I now have two other children and, interestingly, I can remember more about my abortion than I can remember about the births of my two girls.) It was mid-August and the heat was oppressive. That summer had been one of those kinds with numerous days above 100 degrees, and that day was no different. There was no air conditioning in the clinic and the building looked scary and forbidding. Inside, it was no better. There were probably fifteen other girls waiting. We were all put together in a room and “counseled.” This counseling consisted of showing us the machine, telling us it would be noisy, the pain would be minimal and it was just tissue they were removing. What a lie! The pain was indescribable. The so called “doctor” never said a word. He was covered from head to toe in scrubs and I could not even see his eyes because the light reflected off his goggles. The abortion seemed to take forever. Afterwards, I was taken to a darkened room to recover. Hours passed and I wondered if anyone was going to come get me. My mother had to ask about me, and was told it had been complicated. I was either pregnant with twins or  farther along then they first thought. There were no sonograms and I don’t remember being given a pregnancy test to confirm that I was even pregnant.

That night was the worst night of my life. Cramping like I never experienced before started in after I went to bed. I cried for what seemed like most of the night. I didn’t call out for my mother. She had no sympathy for me. By dawn they had subsided.

That morning, I just sat down in a chair and cried. My mother walked by and asked me why I was crying. I looked up at her and I said “I killed my child.” She said “That was my grandchild.” We never spoke about it again. As far as I know, she never told my father. I stuffed the pain and the knowledge that it was my child I had killed so far down inside that I became a very staunch pro-abortion supporter.

Long-Lasting Effects
But you can only keep something like this stuffed down inside for so long. It never goes away. Many years later a depression came over me and I kept thinking I didn’t deserve to live because I had killed my own child. I didn’t even understand that the depression was connected to the abortion, even though I was having these thoughts. I believed it was stress. Eventually I got help and the depression lifted and the negative thoughts went away for a while.

In the meantime, I started attending a church with my husband but I didn’t immediately switch from my pro-abortion views. One day, I saw a woman on TV who had written a book about her abortions and was now working to educate other women on how damaging abortion is to women. It was then that it hit me what I had done. I just sat on the floor crying and asking God for forgiveness. I called the organization this woman was with and asked if I could help them. They asked me if I had been through a healing program. When I said no, they directed me to Two Lines Pregnancy Clinic (formerly Advice & Aid Pregnancy Center).

Finding Forgiveness and Freedom
It was through the program they offered titled  “Forgiven and Set Free” that I began to  learn to forgive myself. I became a volunteer and eventually started coordinating the studies for them. For six years I  have had the pleasure of seeing other women come to a place where they could be at peace with themselves and their past choices.


If you are interested in reading other stories like this, visit:
Ann’s Story
Nicole’s Story

My Story Of Teenage Pregnancy

Kelly is willingly giving us permission to share her story so that others can realize there is hope in the midst of a difficult situation. All client experiences with Two Lines Pregnancy Clinic (formerly Advice & Aid Pregnancy Center) are kept with the highest confidence. The stories that are shared come from the real-life experiences that our clients, staff and volunteers had during their unplanned pregnancy.

Her name has been changed but her story is true.


My name is Kelly.
This is my story of teenage pregnancy.

February, 1975
On this particular morning I was sitting in a wood-paneled room with at least 15 other women. The green shag carpet reflected the time period – it is a cold February day in 1975.  Sitting in plastic covered upright chairs, I anxiously scanned the room.  “Who are these girls?” I wondered. I was surprised that there were so many of us. After some time, a pert looking nurse dressed entirely in white opens the door to call out a name.  Upon hearing her name, the young girl sitting close to me stood up and walked stiffly into a corridor following the young nurse. We coughed, we squirmed, but mostly we sat quietly, staring at nothing. A few engage in idle chatter, but most of us quietly sat, waiting for our name to be called. “It’s dark in here,” I thought to myself while noting that we were in an office basement with just one small window. I shivered with cold and anxiety.

There is someone else I knew in this waiting room. We went to the same high school, although this girl is a year or two older than me. “Hi,” my friend chirped, as though she had not a care in the world. After a little small talk, we talked about the reason we were here — at this women’s health clinic. “I’m pregnant. My boyfriend and I aren’t ready to have a kid, so I’m having an abortion,” she quips. Aghast that my friend could speak of having an abortion so flippantly, I shared that I, too, was pregnant. We lapsed into solitude as the two of us thought about our shared fate of late.

I looked around to see how many males are in this room. There were perhaps three or four guys sitting with either their girlfriends or wives. My boyfriend is not with me.  My friend’s boyfriend isn’t with her. We are alone. Then, I startled to the sound of my name being called by a nurse in the doorway, “Kelly?”

Innocence Lost
As a young 15 year old, I fell deeply in love with a fellow classmate. He became the center of my being and my reason for living. It was the summer between tenth and eleventh grade that I freely gave a part of me that had remained mine until that moment. I was never the same after.

I felt dirty and unclean. Our dates were no longer fun and innocent. Then the unspeakable happened. I realized that I could possibly be pregnant.

At first I wasn’t too shaken. “I’m probably just late,” I thought. “I couldn’t possibly be pregnant,” I reasoned.

My boyfriend was at least willing to go with me to see the school counselor. After telling Mr. Smith that I thought I could be pregnant, he offered the telephone number of a women’s health clinic in Kansas. “They should be able to help you,” Mr. Smith said with a gentle smile. My boyfriend and I pledged our undying love to one another, and I made plans to call this health center.

Knowing For Sure
I called, and within a week I was sitting at a local clinic waiting for the results of a pregnancy test.  “No, you’re not pregnant … at least our test doesn’t show a positive response yet,” the aide informed me. Another week came and went. By now I was feeling queasy, especially in the mornings, and my body showed other signs of pregnancy. Again, I traveled to the local clinic for a pregnancy test. After waiting for what seemed an eternity, the aide delivered the news with no visible emotion, “Yes, you are pregnant. (pause) Would you like to talk with one of our counselors?”

The floor felt like it dropped 50 feet and I could barely register anything else she said. Before too long I was sitting in a small cubicle with a counselor. Much is lost from my memory except for these few words, “We can help you with your problem. No one needs to know.”  Her words resounded in my soul.  “We can help you with your problem. No one needs to know,” to which I mentally added,”like my friends at school.”

Looking back on this time, I realized that very little counseling was actually done.  We didn’t talk about the growth & development of this tiny being inside my tummy. We didn’t discuss the possibility of adoption.  I didn’t hear much about the risks & drawbacks associated with abortions. I wish I’d know that you could hear the heartbeat very early into pregnancy and that fully formed features could be seen by an ultrasound. It might have made a difference for me. It felt like being lost in a forest with just one escape path – abortion, fast and easy.

A Quick “Fix”
I was looking for quick relief … an escape from the consequences of my behavior. My desire was to be able to finish high school and continue on to college unscathed. It didn’t help that I no longer had the support of my boyfriend. He’d recently broken-up with me, blaming it on his parents. I wept and cried to my best friend. My parents simply wanted what they thought was best for me — for me to be able to go to college without having to go through a pregnancy as an unmarried, single, sixteen year old.  I felt alone and very scared. Part of me was excited to have a little being growing inside my tummy. The other part of me was very scared to face the consequences of this unexpected surprise. There seemed to be no other alternatives.

In the years to follow I would blame everyone else for the predicament I was in.  Only with time would I learn and accept that I, alone, was the one who had to live with the consequences of my own choosing. I freely gave away that part of myself that could have been saved for my husband. I neglected safety measures that might have prevented a teenage pregnancy. And ultimately, I made the decision to abort as a quick and easy means to get rid of an unwanted problem.


If you are interested in reading other stories like this, visit:
Ann’s Story
Nicole’s Story

My Name is Sarah. This is My Story of a College Pregnancy

Sarah is willingly giving us permission to share her story so that others can realize there is hope in the midst of a difficult situation. All client experiences with Two Lines Pregnancy Clinic (formerly Advice & Aid Pregnancy Center) are kept with the highest confidence. The stories that are shared come from the real-life experiences that our clients, staff and volunteers had during their unplanned pregnancy.

Her name has been changed but her story is true.


It Couldn’t Be Possible
There had to be some mistake. I couldn’t be pregnant. Things like this only happened to other people. The woman at the Pregnancy Resource Center ran the test again at my request. The test was still positive. I cried harder and begged her to try again. She indulged me, and once again the test was positive. I asked her for a fourth test and she looked at me with such compassion, and simply said, “I can run it again, but the result will still be the same. You are pregnant.” My life as I knew it was over.   I thought I had my life all planned out. My college experience had been an ideal one full of friends, parties, sorority events and a great boyfriend. Life was a lot of fun and I was just discovering who I was in the midst of it all. And I was in love for the first time in my life.

My boyfriend was sitting on the couch next to me, looking stunned. I was hysterical. “I could have an abortion.” The thought crossed my mind just moments after finding out I was pregnant. After all, I was only 19, still in college and not ready to be a parent. I could barely take care of myself, let alone another human being. Alarms were going off in my head. “What are my parents going to say? Will my boyfriend leave me? Could I even do this on my own? What will people think of me?” He gently put his arm around me, squeezed and said “We’re going to have a baby. It’s going to be great.” It was hard to believe him when he looked so pale and ready to be sick at any moment.

A Shoulder to Cry On
I needed fresh air. I felt like I was suffocating and needed to leave that room immediately. What was I going to do? My grandmother lived close to my college, so I called her. I needed some perspective. I drove to her home, and she met me at the door. She took one look at my face and said, “You’re pregnant, aren’t you?” I broke into tears and confirmed her suspicion. She looked at me, held me in a loving embrace, and softly said “We’re going to have a baby. It’s going to be great.” The same words I had just heard from my boyfriend. Maybe I could do this, maybe I could have a baby and it wouldn’t be so bad. I left feeling uplifted and hopeful.

Severe Consequences
I drove back to my sorority house and spoke to a few good friends. I trusted them and knew they would support me just like my boyfriend and grandmother. I was wrong. Soon after telling my “friends,” I was called before our sorority standards board and chastised for being immoral for having premarital sex and for deciding to carry my pregnancy. They stripped me of my Greek letters and told me to move out immediately. If I left quietly, they would not hold me to my housing contract. Until that moment, I did not feel ashamed. I was extremely humiliated and wanted to disappear. Again, I called my grandmother, and she arrived within the hour and packed me up and moved me into her home. My boyfriend was also caught up in this whirlwind, and decided to be upfront with his fraternity about our situation. Surprisingly, they were very supportive and so very kind. Maybe I was finally catching a break…

Small Town Woes
Living in a small town has many advantages, but also many disadvantages. Gossip travels fast. Everywhere I went, people stopped and stared and whispered. It was hard to take, and made me feel even more distrustful of others and isolated in my situation. Was I doing the right thing?

My boyfriend and I ultimately decided to parent our child. The initial support I received from the woman at the pregnancy resource center, my boyfriend, and my grandmother made all the difference. Though we had many obstacles to overcome, we have never regretted our decision. Despite everything we may have lost, we gained so much more loving our daughter and sharing her life.