This story is published at Abortion Out Loud.

Growing up in an extremely conservative Christian household, I had been told since childhood the horrors and mental consequences of abortion.

Although as a teen I decided to not pursue my family’s religious views, I had kept a promise to myself that I would never abort my baby – no matter what the price.

Fast forward 10 years. I was 24 years old, a junior in college, and living with a 38-year-old man who was a two-time felon and mentally unstable. But after living with him for three years, I thought I loved him.

I was careful about sex — but one time I wasn’t. One time.

After a month and a half without a period I became curious. Doubtful, I peed on the stick one morning, hoping the negative result would kick in the ol’ Aunt Flo. But no.There was that thick line marking a positive. So I took another test and received the same results.

He was sleeping and I waited for him to wake up before I broke the news. His reaction was less than kind. In a fit of rage, I was screamed at, spit on, hit, and thrown out of my home.

Knowing I could not call my parents for the reality of rejection, I called my employer. At the time, I was a nanny for a very wealthy family in Calabasas. They were a brilliant couple with two beautiful girls.

Over the phone she said, “Come stay, of course. Move into the guest house as long as you need. But my advice is this. Have the abortion, run, and never look back at him.”

Sometimes, I still think of those words years later and feel at peace.

The night before my scheduled procedure I got down on my hands and knees and prayed. This is something I had not done since childhood. I prayed out loud to God and asked him to give me a sign if this abortion was wrong and something I’d hate myself for soon after.

Thinking I’d stay awake all night, I drifted off to sleep within minutes.

I then had a vivid dream. I was on an exam table, getting an ultrasound. The nurse turned to me and said “There’s three in here.”

The next scene of my dream showed my children. They were evil, disfigured beasts that made me gasp for air. Each one had bright green eyes like my ex-boyfriend.

I woke up after in a cold sweat and could not sleep.

My friend and I went to the clinic the next day. As I was taken back for my procedure, I was given an ultrasound to confirm the pregnancy.

Sure enough – just like my dream – the nurse told me there were multiples — identical twins, not triplets like my dream- — in my womb and I immediately got the chills. I told her I had a similar dream the night before.

God gave me my sign, just as I had asked.

After the procedure I thought I would feel extreme, self-loathing shame, and deep grief. But I didn’t! I felt free, relieved, thankful for another chance.

I graduated college later that year with a bachelor’s in journalism – a feat I would never have been able to accomplish carrying a set of twins in my senior year.

Five years later, I am married to a wonderful man and we have a beautiful daughter who I cherish.

Thank you for listening to my story. It’s rare I am able to share this.

As American women, we are privileged and blessed to have freedom and rights over our bodies. Love yourself, fight for your dreams, and take advantage of the overwhelming blessings you have.

A responsible abortion is nothing to be ashamed of.

~Laura