They led me into the stark white room, guided my hand that signed the forms, and left me alone so I was surrounded by unfamiliar doctors in white lab coats.

‘Why are you letting them do this?’ I tried to cry out, but no sound came.

The doctor spoke, coaxing me through as if this was a simple everyday operation. He held a large needle in his hand and a tube in the other. My breathing becomes shallow, my heart races in my chest.

‘I don’t want this! I don’t!’ I shouted with all my strength, but still my voice was unsteady and all that came out was some stuttering and nonsense syllables.

I felt the IV going into my arm, hurting more than it should, but not as much as the emotional pain as what was happening really hit me. Finally everything climaxed and I grabbed at my IV ripping it out of my arm.

Blood spurted and I grabbed at my arm, and my ever expanding belly. I didn’t want this… this abortion. My parents who were supposed to love and protect me wanted this. But, I overcame and vowed to have this baby.