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When I was 23 I found out I was pregnant for the first time. Newly graduated, full of debt and student loans, and without a solid career I embarked on the journey of motherhood.

It was a difficult road, but my supervisor from my part time job encouraged me that no matter what path I took I would indeed be strong enough to make it through.

Several years later I found out I was pregnant a second time. In a new relationship and struggling career not making much money, I ended the pregnancy. The procedure was done at Planned Parenthood in 2012.

The way they conducted the procedure was not the most comfortable or private. I still remember a handful of women sitting next to me with their choice to decide for their own reasons. Jobless, age, money, relationship issue.

We all have our own story and our own reasoning. It is our story and quite often people judge a book by its cover. People don’t truly understand the book unless they have been one of the characters in the story. It is no one else's business to read our story.

Thankfully that day, sitting in that room, a few of us opened up about what brought us there, and for a moment it helped. A supportive group of women who were faced with the same choice for different circumstances.

I had my second abortion two/three years later. It was at a private clinic in a different city. I only remember the basket I held with my clothes and the handmade gown I put on.

I chose to forget and leave it all behind as soon as I walked out the clinic. It was with the same man, however we still were not financially able to support a child. It wasn’t possible.

My third abortion happened this year. At age 35, my body was not handling the pregnancy well. My son, now 11, had a stable home and I had a good job.

I knew my entire life that I had very strategically and carefully put together would possibly be knocked down like a tower in the game ‘Jenga.’

My boyfriend was devastated. I felt guilty and felt like I had to console him. The counselor at the clinic assured me I had the choice. It was my body and my decision.

The guilt swept over me and consumed me like a tidal wave. I remember the last words I spoke before I went under were “I am scared.”

I woke up with tears in my eyes and as the month went on the regret and guilt subsided and I carried on with my life.

The choice is always a scary one, however it’s ours to make and we are allowed to make the choice for ourselves and for the children we may already be caring for.

It’s never easy but it’s ours to make and we need to honor ourselves and trust our decisions. “You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.”

~ sending love light and support