I'd describe myself as a Christian, though I very much believe in not judging others. I'd always seen myself as pro-choice, but with the thought in the back of my mind that I would never make that decision for myself.

I met my then boyfriend over the internet, on a message board. We got along wonderfully well, and before long I was planning to go visit him on the other side of the country. I was a virgin until the night after I first met him. I was on the pill, not really for contraceptive reasons, but because I have a hormonal imbalance.

I spent a week with him, then came back home. I kind of knew something was wrong because my period was due the next week, but it never came. I very quickly was also feeling very nauseous, moody, and tired – and for someone who had been an insomniac for most of her life, that was quite a turn around. I decided I needed to get myself tested. My then boyfriend guessed from how I felt that I might be pregnant also. He seemed to think there was only one possible option if I was – abortion ... while I at least wanted to look at the other options. We discussed it somewhat, and abortion seemed the best thing – if, of course, I was pregnant.

I did the test the next day, and unsurprisingly, it was positive. So I went to my doctor, and she tested me too – again, positive. She took blood so she could do a test that way, and asked me if I wanted it. I said no – and she gave me the contact details for a clinic.

I had moved back in with my parents a couple of months earlier, and Dad was away for work at the time. That night, I gave the piece of paper the doctor had given me to my Mum and told her “I need to make an appointment there”. She was shocked to say the least, but supportive. She said she would come with me to the clinic.

I had a few “friends” in the intervening time period who tried to convince me that I should keep it and put it up for adoption. I honestly didn't (and don't) believe I could have gone through that. It was either have the baby and keep it, or simply not have it.

I called the clinic the next day and made my appointment for the next week. According to the medical people I was 6-7 weeks along since that was how long it was since my last period, but I knew that the only times I'd had sex were approximately 30 days before my actual appointment. Mum drove me to the clinic. First, they needed to do an ultrasound since I'd been on the pill. I didn't watch, but it confirmed my pregnancy. I can't remember exactly what happened next – I know that there was a lot of waiting in the waiting room. There was a councelling session, and the lady was very nice. There was also a session with a doctor, of which I remember nothing except that I had to get on a set of scales, and he commented that even though they don't actually give you a heavy sedation, that because I was so light, I'd still most probably go under.

Eventually, I got called into the operating theatre. I remember lying on the bed, and thinking that if I wanted to stop this, I had to say it now. I didn't, of course.

Next thing I knew, I was awake and my Mum was there. They gave me food – cookies?--and unlike the preceeding weeks, I didn't feel nauseous as soon as I smelt it. It felt so good to be able to eat again. I called my boyfriend, and in the recovering from sedation haze, thought it would be a good idea to make my Mum speak to him for the first time.

On the way home from the clinic, Mum told me that she had a termination 7 years before I was born. For the first few days, I coped with everything really well. Then depression hit me. I wasn't depressed over the fact that I had had a termination – it was mostly that I'd made a whole heap of decisions in a really short time period that I really wasn't ready to make yet – and decisions I'd always convinced myself were not for me. Additionally, 5 weeks after the termination, I found out that my boyfriend had been cheating on me for the entire time we had been together. I don't mention this because of any weird justification about what I chose to do (because apart from anything else, I don't feel the need to do that – I did what was right for me) – but instead because some of our mutual “friends” online somewhere heard some very strange and hurtful things about the whole situation – such as that I had had the termination to punish him for cheating on me. So despite the fact that in essence, I was the injured party in the situation, I was the one that got bitched about for being vindictive! Luckily I didn't find out about that until a year and a half after the fact. It would have made things so much harder.

I do not regret that I had a termination, I think it was the best, and truly the only decision I could have made at the time that would have made me happy in the long term. But at the same time, I do not pretend that it was an easy choice to make, especially after the fact. I ended up having a depressive episode, which was very difficult to pull myself out of. But I did. And I'm very proud of myself for the person that my experiences have helped me to become.