HAYLEY’S STORY
“The last thing I said before I went to sleep was,‘no, it won’t. Nothing will ever be ok again.’”
I had not long turned 16 when I had the abortion. It feels like a bad dream most days now, but it haunted and ate at me for years.
I had better go right back to the beginning, so not to confuse.
When I was a child, although I remember many happy times and have a good relationship with my mother now, there was a lot of hardship and abuse – physical, verbal, and emotional. I didn't know my real dad, he left when I was just a few months old, and my stepfather had bipolar disorder, which had not been diagnosed at that time. He could go from being a loving father to your worst enemy in 0.5 seconds.
My mum and stepfather divorced when I was 13 and it was a very troubling time. My relationship with my mother broke down and I ended up living with my uncle. He was a good man and made sure I had clean clothes and a full belly, but he wasn't a father by any means. By that time, I had started to see my biological father on weekends, but he had a new family. Although it was nice, it was also hurtful, because I didn't really have a place in that family.
When I was 15, I met Scott*. He was the cool older guy with the nice-ish car, his own house (council rented, but it seemed very grown up to me), and a loud group of friends who all seemed to look up to him in some way – a bit of a ringleader if you like. He already had two children from a previous relationship. I think he was 21 or 22, not older than that, but still too old for me. I didn't think so at the time, though. When I was invited to his house for a party by a friend and he looked my way, I was overwhelmed. I didn't think anyone like him would ever look twice at me. I had very low self-worth and a deep need to feel like I belonged somewhere.
When I met Scott’s children, I fell into the role of glorified babysitter very easily. I loved playing mum with them. I grew very close to them and them to me over the months we were together. Of course, it was all a fantasy. I was being blatantly used. Scott had countless other sexual partners and made me aware that if I didn't do something for him, then they would.
It was a very abusive relationship, but I didn't know any different after my childhood. It felt like he was all I had. So, I went along with everything he asked of me, like an obedient puppy.
I found out that I was pregnant when I had just turned 16. Of course, Scott didn't want to hear about it. He demanded that I have an abortion. I spoke to my uncle; he called me many hurtful names and threw me out. I went to live with my biological father and his family, but my step mum was pregnant, and they didn't have room for me to stay long-term. My dad tried to get me rented accommodation. I was a child. I was scared. In that moment, I felt more lost and alone than ever. Nobody wanted me around. I wanted Scott back. ‘I need him’ was all I could think. I only felt seen and wanted when I was with him – which was crazy, I know.
My uncle agreed for me to come back. This was a mistake, because Scott lived around the corner and, of course, the abuse started again. He would go between sweet nothings and trying to run me over with his car. I really wanted my baby, but in that moment, I felt like I needed him more. He kept telling me it was just cells, anyway; it wouldn't feel anything or know anything about it. When the time was right, we could have more children.
I booked the appointment. I was 12 weeks pregnant, maybe a few days before. Scott got me to borrow £10 from my uncle for fuel and he and his friend drove me to our nearest clinic about 40 miles away. He left me there and I went through it all alone. A counsellor had to see me. I told her that I couldn't speak to her because, if I did, I would change my mind. She sent me back to the waiting room. I was given pessaries to put inside my vagina and then I had to wait. I cried the whole time. I just wanted someone to say ‘STOP don't do it’. But nobody did.
“I just wanted someone to say ‘stop, don’t do it’, but nobody did.”
I remember they came to take me in and lay me on the bed to be put to sleep. I was crying so hard. The nurse was stroking my hair and saying, ‘it will all be ok’. The last thing I said before I went to sleep was, ‘no, it won’t. Nothing will ever be ok again.’
When I came around, I jumped off the bed and just wanted to leave. I said, ‘well, that's that done, then’. I remember all the women in their beds. They were sad; they were looking at me with an odd look that asked, ‘why aren’t you crying?’.
I went to the waiting room, and I waited for hours for Scott to pick me up. I think I was the last to leave. As I walked out to the car, I was in pain and still bleeding heavily. I got in the back and told him that I was in pain. He told me that I was lying and looking for sympathy. We went back to his house and I started to cry. He told me I might as well go home if I was going to cry; So, I did.
I could have killed myself. I was so emotionally hurt; the physical pain was bad, but it felt like my soul and heart had been ripped out with my baby. I just kept saying, ‘I want my baby back’. I tried bargaining with God and praying, by some miracle, maybe it hadn't worked. But, of course, it had. My baby had been ripped away from me, and I had allowed it to happen. I wanted to end my life. I struggled with suicidal thoughts for years afterwards. For a few weeks, I remember just staring out of a window. My soul had been damaged. I was hurt on a deeper level than I had ever been before.
I convinced myself I would never be blessed with another child. I started sleeping around, doing drugs, and drinking heavily. I had eating disorders and no respect for anyone, least of all myself. when I had my daughter a couple of years later, I was convinced the whole time that something would go wrong. I was convinced that I would lose her. Once she was born healthy, I would cry all the time and say, ‘I don't deserve her’. I had postnatal depression. I couldn't bond with her; I loved her, but something didn't fully click into place for me. I ended up having 4 children with 4 different men in the end. Relationships were a disaster for me. I wanted love, but I'd look to abusers and damaged people to provide it. I was a mess for years.
I finally married in 2016, 16 years later. Even then, I felt I didn't deserve happiness. It was only after I found Jesus in January 2019 that I finally felt peace. I was finally whole again. It was the events following that led me to do research into the effects of abortion. I had always known I was hurt by the loss of my daughter, Chelsea, to abortion, but I didn't realise how that hurt manifests itself. I thought I was unstable because of all the other events around the abortion. But no, even women who are in stable relationships with family support suffer terribly after having abortions. It makes me so angry that the abortion industry keeps that from women. It's not right at all. Abortion ended my child's life. I always wonder what she would have been like and I'll always regret being too weak to protect her at that time. Abortion violently ended my daughter’s life and took a massive part of my life too – and even my future children's lives. They don't have their big sister and they didn't have a whole mum. I'm just so thankful that, by the grace of Jesus, they have me whole now and we know Chelsea is safe in Heaven with her true Father.
*Scott's name has been changed.