When I was 18, I was a freshman in college. I had been dating someone casually for over a year, who, was not interested in an exclusive, committed relationship with me. He used marijuana and LSD regularly, and was not especially motivated to pursue his future. He was enjoying life.
I was someone who grew up with a single mom who was very dependent on me. She had a lifelong mental illness, and while she was a good provider most of the time, our life was extremely unstable with her losing jobs, us having to move and her facing long-term mental health hospitalizations. She did her very best, which, was a lot more than many many people, never-the-less, I felt responsible for her well-being while attempting to start my own life. I could barely support myself, let alone, my mother. A baby was not something I was ready to bring in to this environment.
I considered adoption, but somehow, the idea of my child, who I considered a part of myself, that I felt very much responsible for, walking around without my direct involvement, was not something I could handle. I thought of that as the worst case scenario. I would not subject a child to the vagarities of the foster-system, nor would I have been able to control whether the adoptive parents would be loving and nurturing.
I wished everyday for a miscarriage. The minute I was eligible for a D&C, I took it. He accompanied me to my Gynecologist’s office. I felt badly for him because his family was very Catholic, and I know that he probably felt what we were doing–ending the pregnancy–was wrong. He did not say he wanted to keep the baby.
I never regretted my decision. I did not feel it was morally wrong. I felt like it was the responsible thing to do, to only bring a child into this world if I could care for it properly. Now that I know of the emotional issues faced by many adoptees, and I am a grown up and I see what happens in orphanages, foster-care and the levels of child-abuse that are rampant at every economic strata, I feel even stronger that I made the absolute best decision—for everyone.