I held those two little pills in my hands for a long, long time. I had always wanted to be a mother and raise a beautiful family, but my circumstances before and at the beginning of my pregnancy were less than favorable and ultimately led me to this decision — a decision I very quickly regretted.
I was seven weeks pregnant. The father of my child had helped me get a chemical abortion, and the time had come to start it.
The moment I had taken the first pill, I ran to the bathroom to make myself vomit. I felt immediate, intense regret. I vomited over and over, but no pill appeared — and I started to panic.
But then I remembered the pregnancy center I’d visited right after first finding out I was pregnant. They’d given me some brochures I hadn’t bothered to read at the time. Among those pamphlets, it turned out, was an abortion pill reversal service.
As I read it, part of me thought it couldn’t possibly be true. I’d never heard of abortion pill reversal. I didn’t know it then, but the procedure has an up to 62 percent success rate (or higher) when implemented in the first 24 hours after taking an abortion pill. Either way, I called the number.
The voice on the other end of the line asked me how long ago I’d taken the pills.
“Just 15 minutes ago,” I replied.
Six hours later, I had a heavy dose of progesterone in my body. The relief I felt once I heard my son’s heartbeat was indescribable.
About seven months later, my son arrived. I love him more than I ever feared having him.
But loving and choosing my son hasn’t been easy. After I chose to keep him, his father and I separated. I didn’t know where or how to find a job. I didn’t know how I was going to tell my parents. I fell into a deep depression.
Yet God provided at every turn. He gave me friends at the pregnancy center to whom I owe my life and my son’s life. They lifted me from an impossibly dark place and helped me see there was a future where I got to keep, hold, and provide for my son.
God also gave me the strength to tell my parents, and He gave them the grace and ability to help me when I needed them most. He continues to work through the social support programs that help me move closer daily to independence as a single mother.
I receive SNAP food benefits and Medicaid for my son. I take classes with Women, Infants, and Children (WIC) that continue to give me the skills I need. I have emotional support and guidance from so many people who love me. I hope to place my son in a local Head Start program soon so I can pursue more than just remote work opportunities.
But I would never have had the strength to find these opportunities if I hadn’t had my parents and the staff of my local pregnancy center on my side. I almost robbed myself of motherhood — one of the greatest opportunities of my entire life — because I was afraid of what would come next.
My story so far, and my son’s life, are evidence that no child is an accident. If you’re a mother, remember that you specifically were made for your baby. Your heartbeat comforts them. Your voice is the first one they know. Your face is the first one they love.
But no mother can truly do this alone. And to vulnerable mothers, the fear and loneliness can make choosing motherhood seem impossible.
So if you know a mother in your community who needs help, reach out. Support your local pregnancy centers. Speak up on behalf of vulnerable mothers and their children. Welcome, love, and support them in whatever way God has given you to help.
I didn’t need an abortion. I didn’t really want one. What I needed — and what, thank God, I got — were people who loved me and loved my baby. My baby was and will never be a mistake.
Marisha Holley is a mother of one and a resident of Texas.
