It was 2010, I had just turned twenty years old and had a one year old child already named Emily. Emily’s father had left me for another woman shortly before her birth. I had been seeing another man and we had gotten quite serious. Little did I understand in that young, naive, vulnerable state, this man was abusive and extremely sociopathic. On Halloween that year I discovered I was pregnant. He yelled at me and told me it wasn’t his. He blocked my number and I thought he’d just abandoned me. However, a few days later he messaged me and asked me to take a ride with him. He told me he didn’t want anymore children and told me his father had offered to pay for an abortion. I told him of course not…. I would never kill my baby! He left… he then proceeded to show up to my job and just sit in the parking lot for hours. He sat outside of my home honking his horn at all days/ hours of the night. He called and texted me hundreds of times during the day. He harassed my friends and family. I finally broke. I couldn’t do it anymore. He was going to continue this unless I gave in. We scheduled the abortion, and we went up the day before. I had to sleep in the back of his truck because he didn’t have a credit card to pay for a hotel. I couldn’t eat because I was so sick to my stomach about what was to come. The next day we went into the clinic, there were protesters outside and I was called a murdering whore on my way in, that made me burst into tears. But still, he persisted. He sat in the waiting room while I filled out the paperwork, but refused to go when they called me back. I sat in that cold table and was told it was simple and we’d go the chemical route. They did a sonogram and forced me to see the baby on the screen. My heart broke and I sobbed waiting for the doctor to come back. They gave me a single pill and wrote me a prescription for three I had to insert vaginally when I returned home. We went back that evening, I felt so hollow. When we returned he was supposed to care for me while my body rejected the fetus. He watched me writhe in pain for a day and decided it wasn’t his responsibility. He drove me to my mothers house and told me to get out of his car. I looked for him later, even walking to his parents house. His mother told me she’d give me a ride home. I didn’t see him for a month after everything. I was alone to deal with the feelings of pain and resentment. Don’t ever let somebody make you feel like it isn’t your choice. Don’t let them take your power. I mourn the loss of my baby every day and feel guilt as it was my fault.