I Took a Life...Am I Forgiven?

This is part 2 of "He Gave Me A Life". Click here to read from the beginning.

I tossed and turned that same night when I found out I was pregnant. At one point I was in disbelief that a person is growing inside of me. Wouldn't I be a horrible person to take it's life? Would I ever be forgiven for this, or better yet, wouldn't I end up in Hell for eternity?  Even still, with these thoughts lingering in my head, I knew I couldn't be a good mother. I was young, I wanted to graduate from school so I can start a career. I didn't want to end up back in the projects where I grew up. There was no way I wanted to put a child through that.  I made the decision to abort the child. I had to call **Brian.

The next day I called him to break the news.  He was devastated.  He didn't want me to abort the baby and he swore that he would stay with me and take care of me.  He pleaded to me not to do it.  But I didn't listen.  I told him I'm doing it because it is the right thing for the both of us.  He then said, "You are a selfish bi*ch, don't call me, I don't ever want to see you again."  He hung up....and I never heard from him again.  I was so depressed.  I even had thoughts of suicide. I wanted to die...

March 18, 2005.  The day has come for me to head to the clinic to get the operation done.  My mother dropped me off and I went in.  15 minutes later, I was called to a room.  I walked in, and I saw the bed with the ankle clamps attached to it.  I saw a picture of a beach on the ceiling, a table full of tools, and a nurse.  She asked me if I ever had an abortion before.  Shaking, I told her no.  She gave me a half-smile and told me it was going to be alright.  She handed me a hospital gown and I took off my clothes and put it on.  I laid on that bed, nervous, and scared.  I heard **Brian's voice in my head, repeating those same words.  I began to cry and I asked the Lord to please forgive me. I didn't know what else to do.  Please have mercy on me.  There was a knock on the door and the doctor walked in.  He was tall, a little older looking, with glasses.  He smiled at me and said he will make this as painless as possible.  He will be done in 20 minutes.  As I watched him open the clamps and move my legs to them, I couldn't help but think that I was now a murderer.  There is no way God would ever forgive me.  The nurse held my right hand, and the doctor asked me, "Are you ready?"  I took a deep breath and said, "Yes."

He began to ask me about my life.  What school I went to.  What did I want to become when I graduated.  He really tried to take my mind off of what he was doing.  But I couldn't help but to feel his tools inside of me and hearing a vacuum-like sound pulling life out of me.  I could literally feel something dis-attach itself from me.  I started crying and told him to please stop.  But by the time I said that, he said he was done.  He told me that everything will be alright, but I wasn't alright.  He took me to another room, where I saw other women laying on individual beds.  Some women were laid in fetal position, rocking themselves.  Some were sitting up crying.  He took me to my bed and said, "I'll let you rest here for an hour. After that I will give you some meds to take from here on out."  I laid on the bed and all I could hear in my head was "murderer", "liar", "selfish", "who wants you now?" "God won't forgive you", "You are a killer", "Kill yourself."  I cried and cried, rocked myself until I fell asleep.

Tune in tomorrow for part 3.  **Name is withheld.