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Name: Michelle
DOB: 5/5/1986
Weight: 7 lbs 2 oz

My name is Michelle. I am fourteen. This may not be what you were looking for, but I wanted to share my story with all of you from somebody who would not be here today had her mother not taken responsibility for herself. Even if one person reads this and feels even the slightest bit touched, I have done my job.

It was a beautiful night, I’m sure. August, right before school was to start, when all the school kids are trying to cram in their last-minute summer fun. Elementary children swimming in the ocean, middle schoolers preparing for the big school change, and older teens getting as many dinner-and-a-movie dates as they could.

It was the summer of 1985. A young woman, let’s call her Jourdan, was looking forward to tonight. She would get to see her “other half,” as she called him. We’ll say Mike. They had been dating for a while, or maybe not, who knows? She might have been sure he was “the one,” her soulmate, the one she was meant to spend the rest of her life with. Why, then, was it so wrong for them to have sex?

The night came, and soon Jourdan and Mike were having their fun. She knew tonight was the night. She couldn’t wait; neither could he. So they did it. You know, the BIG “it.” They had sex.

Time passed, and Jourdan realized she had all the signs of a pregnant woman that she had heard about. Her, at seventeen years old, a mother? She couldn’t raise this child, there was enough to worry about as it was. And she knew she couldn’t kill the child; it wasn’t the baby’s fault that they had had their night of fun.

Why take it out on her? She didn’t ask to be born. Or maybe abortion was an option, after all, and she just chose against it. Whatever the case, you probably already guessed that Jourdan is my mother, and because of her pro-life decision, I was adopted into the Brochon family and able to lead a happy, fulfilling life. And my mother and I made another family happy in the process. You can’t lose.

I’m sure the months of my mother’s pregnancy were hard and unpleasant. But she decided to give me the two of the most incredible gifts you can ever receive: the gift of life, and the gift of love. She loved me so much that she decided that she could not bear to kill me. She also gave me strength, courage, and a hero for all my life. She had the strength and courage to give birth to me, and for that, she is, and always will be, my hero.

Maybe this wasn’t the story you were looking for. I’m sorry, I really am. I just thought that my mother’s pro-life decision would help some other teens in her situation. She was mature enough to have sex, and therefore had to be mature enough to accept the consequences, and she understood that. For that I thank her.

Please, if you are a teen who is thinking about abortion, put yourself in your baby’s position for a second. Would you really deprive an innocent little miracle the chance of a life because of your bad decision? If you give your baby a chance at life, even if you give it up for adoption, you’ll have a friend and an admirer for life.