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He made me trust him. He watched as I lowered my walls and allowed him in. He said he loved me, or maybe that was just what I told myself to make the deed easier. And so I lay there, unquestioning and unassuming…

He didn’t use a condom. He said I was too inexperienced to realise that it wouldn’t feel the same. He told me I had nothing to worry about. That he had been tested countless times, and his girlfriend? Well she had a history of sleeping around so he always made sure he kept it wrapped up. Silly me believed his silly lie because I was too naive to think it couldn’t be true.

He searched my face for some approval, but all I could do was lay there hoping to die. See, one week after failing to use protection I realised I was pregnant. The little life that grew in my womb seemed to open my eyes to the deception I had lived. He said it couldn’t be his, knowing fully well he was my first and only. Calling me a slut and a whore, and asking me what I planned to do with “it”.

It! As though the child he helped to create was nothing more than a fungus growing on his back. Something to get rid off with immediate effect. And so out of fear, I realised I was not meant to be a mother. I quickly scheduled an abortion and told close friends because it was too large of a burden to carry on my own.

As if she heard me, the life that swam inside me decided it didn’t want to live anymore. The nausea was soon accompanied by crippling pain, serving as a signal that a life had been lost before I could even say “hello”.

I told him after a week that the daughter I had will no longer be. He laughed and said that it was not meant to be and that he never wanted a baby anyway. So I was left alone to mourn the death of a baby that was never born. I was left alone to bear the guilt of unprotected sex with a man that was not my own.

Today I see her in every baby bump and baby clothing. I cry at how I robbed myself of a healthy baby.

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