To my aborted baby,

I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I had to let you go. I know it was mostly my decision in the end, as I was the one to walk into that clinic alone the first time, and the second time, and every time, because your father lived in another state 1,000 miles away. But I felt as if I had no choice, your father was a horrible, horrible person who told me so. He was emotionally and verbally abusive, and screamed at me everyday when I was pregnant with you. I was young and naive and thought I couldn't do this by myself. He told me I was a piece of shit for wanting to keep you and that I ruined his life, and then he cheated on me and left me for the girl he told me not to worry about. He said I'd never finish college or go anywhere in life if I kept you. He said I'd be miserable and manipulated me into believing him. I had no one. I had no friends or family to turn to. All I had was him. He controlled my life, and I let it happen, but I've since moved on from him.

The night before you were gone I held my stomach and cried, and said I was sorry. I drove myself to the clinic the following morning in a daze. I was unaware that you were already 10 weeks, and I was forced to get a surgical abortion. It was some of the worst pain I've felt in my life, as I was wide awake during the entire process. I asked one of the nurses to hold my hand and sing to me while I cried. And then you were gone. My body went limp in an instant and I couldn't stop crying. Another girl who was wheeled into the recovery room held my hand as I cried and tried to comfort me, but I couldn't see her through the tears in my eyes. I squeezed her hand back as a way of thanking her. An hour later, I got up and drove myself home. Life was different for a long time, it still is. And I think about you almost everyday.

You would have been born in April 2015. I always wondered what you would have been like. I still do. I think about what it would have been like to hold your little hands, to hold you and comfort you and tell you how much I love you, and to raise you as my own, watch you grow and hope that I never let you down as a mother. One day I hope I will be able to carry another child, but this time, I promise I will never let them go.

I am glad that I at least have this one photo to remember you by. I love you.