"I was 16.
My boyfriend dropped me off at the local Planned Parenthood clinic because I was underage and he wasn't, and we were worried he'd get in trouble.
We chose Planned Parenthood because it was Free to get a pregnancy test there, and the word around town was that they wouldn't ask questions. I didn't even need to show ID or to give a real name (which I didn't, on both counts).
The nurse who brought my test results told me that I'd never be able to have a baby at my age, and brought the Abortion papers to me along with the results.
She was cold. The room was cold. The entire facility was cold. The kind of cold you see in the eyes of a goldfish who does nothing but swim in small circles all day long, just waiting to be fed.
I was terrified. I was alone. I trusted her....a nurse! She knew what she was doing, and she cared....right? She would help me!
But she was so cold....
"You'll destroy any hope of a future; you'll ruin your family; your body is not capable of bearing a child, and it will likely have severe physical issues if you try. You must be realistic."
She was so cold, so robotic. She didn't even know my name.
She rattled off the same monologue she'd repeated a hundred times before without ever looking up from the abortion scheduling paperwork she was already filling out on my behalf.
I was terrified. She was cold.
She didn't know my name, and she didn't care to.
So I ran.
I ran from that horrible, cold woman. I ran from that cold and lifeless place.
I ran home....to someone who knew my name.
My boyfriend was angry, "They'll just stick something up you and suck it out, and then we can start over."
My little brother cried and ran from me.
My father wept.
But I knew. I knew it the moment I stepped foot in that cold, dead clinic.....I knew there was Life in my belly and, no matter what mistakes I had made, that Life did not deserve to be snuffed out in such a cold and callous place, by people who had lost the ability even to care what your name might be.
Many months of sorrow and fear proceeded that day. And so much uncertainty......should we adopt the baby out? What will happen if we don't? My entire family was in crisis.....
But something happened that we did not expect. Something the professionals told us was impossible.......we began to hope.
My family drew together. We found a way to Love one another again......our crisis brought healing that we never thought possible....and by the time my son was born, I had decided to name him Judah....it means "praise God".....because I had come from such darkness, fear and pain into so much joy! Beauty, from ashes....
Miracles had been worked in me and in my family, and I wasn't as alone as I once thought. I wasn't as weak as I was told. I had hope, and a future, and so did my precious little boy.
We just celebrated Judah's 23rd birthday. He is amazing. A musician, a scholar; intelligent and kind. He changed my life, and my family's, for the better. He's got a great job, an amazing laugh, and is in love with a wonderful young lady.....I think they'll be married soon......
As for me, I proved all of those professionals wrong. I continued my education, I raised my son, I built a career. I even bought a house by the beach......and I am happy. I cannot express how full of joy these years have been. Sure, there have been hardships along the way, but the Miracle of My Child, the joy he's brought my family, has far outweighed any trial we've faced.
He is a human being. A real person. And in choosing to give him a chance at life, I also chose to give myself a chance at living. I decided that Life was more beautiful and powerful than the fear and pain I was told was all we'd know and, 23 years later, I can still say for certain, that I was not wrong.
❤" - Anonymous
