I came from a twice broken home. I didn't know my mom till I was in high school. During a high school summer break, I visited her, because I knew I'd be allowed to date and smoke. At that time, my dad walked out of my life.

My mom gave me a Bible, but I never made it through more than a few chapters into Genesis. I knew it was right to save yourself for marriage and I wanted to do that, but peer pressure was stronger than my convictions.

I met my first boyfriend at the age of 15. After several months I lost my virginity to him, thinking we would get married. After a few more months, he broke up with me for a girl who lived closer to him. I was devastated.

A year later, still heartbroken, I fell into another relationship. This time, I got pregnant. The father walked away. My mom said it was my decision what to do about the pregnancy. She also shared that my dad had wanted her to abort me. That was in 1973 when abortion became legal. My mom chose life.

I also chose life for my child, Jeffrey. I graduated from high school with high honors while I was eight months pregnant.

I landed a job at a convenience store, the only position I could find that was full-time with benefits. One day, a customer asked if I'd like to clean his home for extra cash. Dennis reminded me of my dad. I went to his house to look at the job, but I never worked for him. He began to court me. He sent flowers to my workplace and brought dinner to me while I was working.

Once again I succumbed to the advances of a man, and once again I found myself pregnant. He demanded that I get an abortion. I searched the phone book for a clinic. I couldn't imagine bringing into the world a child who was not wanted by his father.

For some reason, Dennis' daughter phoned me and urged me not to go through with the abortion. She shared her own story that she had gotten pregnant after being raped and had decided to keep the child. It wasn't until years later, when I was counseling others that her words came back to my mind, but back then, it didn't change my decision.

During that time, I had started dating the man who would one day become my husband. When I told him I was pregnant with someone else's child, he said he could accept my first child, Jeffrey, but he wasn't sure he could accept a second baby fathered by another man. He wanted me to have an abortion.

The day of my appointment, Dennis drove me to a Gainesville abortion clinic. I remember looking at the picketers and wishing they would disappear. I thought they hated me.

After talking to the staff and taking the required time to think things over, I decided to go through with the abortion. I had convinced myself it was just a blob of tissue. Looking back, I can't believe my heart was so hard.

Second Corinthians 4:4 says, "Satan, who is the god of this world, has blinded the minds of those who don't believe." (NLT)

The next thing, I was lying on a bed. A doctor did an ultrasound but I couldn't see the screen. A nurse stood beside my head. The doctor looked surprised and stared at the nurse. Nobody had to say a word. I knew I was carrying twins.

I wanted to scream for him to wait, but I remained silent. l still remember the drone of the machine. I don't recall any intense pain. For me, the emotional pain outweighed the physical pain.

It was over very quickly. Even before my feet hit the floor I had regrets. The nurse asked me if I was okay. I thought, how can anybody care about me after what I had just done?

During the drive back from Gainesville, I looked out the window with tears streaming down my cheeks. I wanted to go back and undo everything, but I couldn't. I still regret the choice I made to have an abortion.

Eleven years later, God opened the door of salvation to me. A friend gave me a book, Purpose Driven Life. Then someone shared her personal testimony with me. I joined a church and got baptized. Through God's forgiveness I began to use my past to council others in crisis pregnancy.

For more than five years I've been a volunteer at the Women's Pregnancy Center. I lead the post-abortion ministry and I serve as a client advocate. Before taking the training, I had to go through a post-abortion recovery class. That was when I started to forgive myself.

I cannot undo what I did. Nor can I do enough right to make up for it. But if I can share my story I might get others to slow down and think clearly. Also, through a Bible study at the Woman's Pregnancy Center, I help others who have made the same mistake I made.

It's an ongoing process. Every time I teach a class at the center, every time I tell my story, it opens up something I've tucked away. In trying to help others, I also found healing for myself.