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I was sixteen years old when I found out I was pregnant. I was five weeks along, when the doctor told me for sure. It was May, school was coming to an end, and my life was great. My boyfriend and I were so in love, my family and I had a great relationship, I had a good group of friends. But, I was also carefree, and definitely not ready for a baby. Even so, the thought of abortion never once crossed my mind.

I immediately told Quentin, who I had been together with since we were twelve. We had been best friends since diapers. I thought he would support me and help me through this. Well, he told me he wanted no part in a baby, that he wasn't ready emotionally or financially. He wanted me to give the baby up for adoption, and I said I would think about it. The next people I told were my parents. They weren't too thrilled, but they said they'd help in any way they could. I was so glad they didn't get angry like a lot of parents do.

The weeks went by, Quentin and I hadn't really talked too much, we were still together, but having a rough time. Anyway, when I was about 11 weeks along, my parents and I went to hear the baby's heartbeat. It was steady and strong. It was the most amazing thing I had ever heard in my life. A little being was growing inside me, under my heart. A child I created out of love. It was then that I fell completely in love with this baby.

On July 8th, my parents and I went to the doctor for my first ultrasound. I was so excited! It was mainly to make sure everything was okay, and maybe to find out the sex. The doctor said it would be hard to see, but if we were lucky we could find out. I looked on the screen, and saw a little foot, moving around. My heart skipped a beat, I was so amazed at what I saw, my baby!! Then the doctor moved around a bit, and I saw more of the body. Then, the doctor looked at me, he told me, "It's kind of hard to make out, but from the looks of it, you have yourself a healthy baby boy!" I was so happy, tears filled my eyes! A baby boy! What a blessing God had given me. I had always liked the name, 'Malik' because it means, 'King', which sounds strong. I told my parents the name I had chosen, Malik Jordan. My mother then looked back at the screen and said, "I love you Malik," and he started moving and kicking. I held her hand and smiled as we looked at my precious baby.

A couple days later Quentin and I went out for something to eat. I showed him the pictures of Malik from the ultrasound, he barely looked at them when he handed them back, and strongly said we needed to talk. He told me, there was no way we could stay together with a baby. His family didn't want him to have a child, not now, not with his future ahead. He said the only way we could be together was to terminate the pregnancy. I asked him about adoption, but he said he couldn't let me get so attached to the baby, then have to give it up. So, after he kept talking, we agreed an abortion would be best, for us and the baby. We didn't realize the mistake we were going to make. I didn't realize, how attached I already was to this baby.

Quentin called and scheduled a date for the abortion, July 13th. I talked to some of the ladies on the phone, who only asked a couple questions about my health and how far along I was. They never asked if this was really what I wanted to do. No one did. I didn't have the guts to tell my parents, I knew they'd say no. So, on July 13th we went to the clinic. Quentin's mother had dropped us off, acting as though she was glad to be doing us the favor. I started to tremble as we walked inside. My heart started beating fast, and tears were filling my eyes. Quentin grabbed my hand and told me it would be okay, that soon it would be over.

I waited for what seemed like forever, before I was finally called into a room. The doctor told me he'd be doing a D&E, (dilation & evacuation). I didn't realize what I was getting into.

After it was all over, Quentin came in and held my hand, and smiled at me. I just looked at him and cried. I couldn't stop thinking of my precious Malik. We went to his house later, and I told him I had named the baby Malik Jordan. I then pulled out the ultrasound pictures, looked at them and cried. He got mad at me for acting that way, and brought me home. It was then I realized I still had to face my parents. I sat them down and plainly told them what I had done. I don't think I've ever seen them so heartbroken or mad at me. My mother just said, "How could you!" and walked out. My father hasn't looked me in the eyes since that day.

A couple weeks later, I finally sat Quentin down and showed him the pictures of Malik. He stared at them for the longest time, and finally cried. He said he was sorry for what he made me do, that he wished we hadn't gone through with it. I remember getting so angry. I had killed my baby, for him, and now he was regretting it! Why didn't he change his mind BEFORE I did it!

Now things are so different between us. We are still together, but we fight, constantly. My family still can't forgive me. I've been diagnosed with PASS (Post Abortion Stress Syndrome.) I find myself always depressed, wanting Malik back. But I know that can never be. But with the help of my family and friends, I know I can make it through.