I can’t remember his last name but his first was Lee. He was a true sweetheart… tall, skinny, mocha complexion, nice haircut with either a kit in it or Indian in his family lol, and gorgeous eyes that seemed to see more about me than he let on. He was patient and understanding with a nice job and a house. We went on a couple dates. My mom loved him, especially, since he took the attention away from the abusive dude. He respected me and I didn’t know what to do with that. It was new. He seemed to have a good family life and the most beautiful little girl. He also had a son… but he doesn’t know that. Why? He would have been my baby’s dad.
I never told him we were pregnant with, what I’ve believed so hard was, a boy. I never told him abortion was also on the table. I never told him I battled in my mind on what to do. I never told him I could/couldn’t take care of the baby. I never told him I called for abortion information. I never told him I worked pretty hard to save $350 for his child’s blood. I never told him I was scared and alone. I never told him I made my way to my appointment at the Hope Center for Women in Granite City. I never told him what should have taken a few minutes to decide took me all day unlike everyone else whom were in and out. I never told him I finally consented to the procedure (6hours later). I never told him I heard his little heartbeat at six weeks. I never told him I cried out to God to stop me. I never told him I took my Valiums and proceeded to the operating room. I never told him that this place was incorrectly named because I had no hope. I never told him I was so high that the animal pictures on the walls came to life and started laughing and I laughed with them. I never told him I didn’t say goodbye as the vacuum sound broke its silence and removed my baby from my womb. I never told him that I was wheeled away to post op to ensure no bleeding, but my heart surely was.
I never told him I was released to my friend to go home and stay off my feet but I went to work anyway. I never told him I bled pretty badly before my shift was over. I never told him I should have went to the E.R. but didn’t because I deserved to die. I never told him I got patched up and decided to falsely patch up what was left of my life. I never told him I couldn’t be the woman he wanted with him because I hated me. I never told him the devastation I caused paved the way for my destruction as well as others around me. Death was present and Satan had his way with me as my mind left with our baby.
Finally, I see him. It’s Lee!!! He sees me… standing there with the abusive one… again! He looked at me like he already knew what I’d done. We had a silent argument. He tried calling me before and after everything several times but I couldn’t face him, knowing I was once pregnant with his seed, took their choices away for a loving relationship, and that I was the accessory to murder. It haunts me knowing all of this and he still doesn’t. I’ve looked for him and I can’t find him.
I want to tell him… No… I need to tell him that I got help. I want to tell him what once imprisoned me has helped to set me, and others like me, free. I need to tell him my greatest passion is to speak out against abortion. I need to tell him the Lord my God is the Only Reason I have strength to write these words. I want to tell him… I need to tell him… “I’m so very sorry, Lee. Please forgive me.” He needs to know.