
It Wasn’t My Body, But It Was My Baby
In the summer of 1998 a friend and I spent an evening together. A few weeks later she told me she was pregnant, and it was mine. Neither of us expected it, and neither of us felt ready to raise a child together. We were not in love and thought it would be better to go our separate ways with a clean slate. So we choose to have an abortion. We gathered $400 from a friend and went to a clinic that prescribed us a pill. We drove to someone’s empty home where we would spend the night. I got her a glass of water to take the pill. I held her hand while she cramped and cried. I was there as we ended the life of our unborn child. Some choices leave scars. Our abortion was one of those choices. In the years since our decision, I’ve often reflected on what happened that summer. It has changed me. It has given me more compassion toward those who face the fear of an unplanned pregnancy. God has brought healing and shown forgiveness that I do not deserve. You can read more about that here. My experience with abortion is one reason I often speak










