by ANONYMOUS
Two years ago I had an abortion. Two years ago to the day I had to make one of the most soul-crushing and horrific decisions of my life.
Christopher* and I had been together for three years and we’d been discussing starting a family for the last six months. He was in his early 40’s and starting to feel time was slipping away from him. I was in my early 20’s and could think of nothing better than having children with the love of my life.
We were away on a business trip when I discovered I was pregnant. Overjoyed, I began making OB/GYN appointments back home, looking at baby clothes and buying baby books by the dozen. If Christopher wasn’t quite as excited as me, I chalked it up to work stress and figured he would be more excited once we’d seen the ultrasound.
The day we flew home I drove straight to my doctor and she booked my eight week scan for the following Thursday. Christopher was holding my hand when we saw our baby for the first time – not much more than a blip on the screen but hearing that little heartbeat suddenly made it real. This was really happening!
Christopher chose that night to tell me he couldn’t do it. “I saw the excitement on your face today and I just don’t feel it. I’m sorry but I can’t.” Needless to say, I was crushed…furious…bewildered…scared.
For the next four days I ran the gamut of emotions from A-Z, trying to work out what had happened, what I was going to do. By the Sunday Christopher had come to a decision. He sat down with my parents and I, looked me dead in the eye and informed me that he didn’t love me; I was free to do whatever I liked but he would make me fight for every penny of child support and he wanted no part of this child’s life.