Broke, starving and alone, I found myself pregnant at 22-years-old; the condom broke. "He" walked out on me the day after I told him I was pregnant. I made four apointments to terminate my pregnancy, but managed to miss every one of them. I had my baby, a girl, and worked my little butt off to support her.

I started going to night classes to further educate myself and met a real nice guy, so I thought. Once again, I found myself pregnant at 24 (don't mix birth control pills and antibiotics), and once again, "He" left me. This time I had an abortion. Shortly after, I fell into the deepest sadness of my life; juggling the "what if" senarios and literally tore my soul into shreads. My daughter was what kept me moving forward.

So, I continued raising my child by myself, finished college; got a BA, and found a fabulous job. Now I'm engaged and pregnant at 27. He doens't feel he's ready for a child, but I will NEVER put myself through the heartache of losing another baby because of my own selfishnes. Our relationship is strong, I don't doubt that, but the life of my baby means more to me than his personal setbacks. I'm due August 6, 2005...

-- submitted anonymously