May 9, 2012 (www.sjatoday.org) – Sharing my story might make some angry. Maybe it will make some feel uncomfortable, while even hurting others. I learned very early on in my life that I was not put on this earth to make people feel comfortable. Between being born into teenage pregnancy and poverty, and later becoming an orphan due to alcohol and drug abuse, I have always had a bit of uncomfortableness around me. So why stop now?

One young girl, one unborn baby, and one very important, life-changing decision are where my story begins. The young girl does not know what to do. Her world is crumbling into pieces. She is fifteen years old, and her boyfriend just broke up with her. She just found out she is two months pregnant. She is overcome with fear for her future, and her heart is heavy. She asks herself, what will people think of her when they find out she is pregnant? What will her parents’ reaction be?

All the fears cause her to consider having an abortion.

To make things even worse, the fifteen-year-old girl’s family is very poor and cannot afford having another mouth to feed. Her parents are alcoholics, and family life is already very difficult. She is afraid she may be kicked out of her home if she were to decide to keep the baby, and she is no longer in a relationship with the father of her baby. She wonders if she will ever find another boyfriend if she has a child. She is still in school. The thoughts of having her whole future still ahead of her and how a baby will hold her back are paralyzing.

The fifteen-year-old described in this story chose life for her unborn baby. I will be forever grateful of that decision, because she was pregnant with me.

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Life was not always easy for me growing up with a teenage mother, who later became a drug addict and alcoholic. Yet, I always knew I was loved.  When my birth mother was not able to care for me, God always did. She died by the time I was nine years old from a drug overdose. She was 25.

Oftentimes, pro-choice supporters make statements like, “You do not know what it is like to grow up in poverty or with alcoholic parents,” or “No child would want to be born into poverty or into a family of alcoholics.” Well, I have lived that life, and, I must admit, if given the choice of having a family with money and no addiction versus the life I had, I would probably choose the first option. But, if given the choice between the life I had and that of a death sentence, I would choose the life I had.

Even though I grew up in a poor family that suffered from addiction, I never felt like I did not want to live. I actually never knew my life was that difficult or that my family was poor, because I did not know any different. Being a child of a poor family and of an addict did not define me, nor did it make my life any less valuable than anyone who may be reading this story.

Three years to the day after my birth mother’s death, I sat in a Russian courthouse. A Russian judge approved my adoption into my American family. I soon moved to the United States and now, five years later, I am a senior in high school, with a 3.2 GPA. I have just been accepted into college where I will study to become a registered nurse.

My future is bright, and my life is amazing, all because of one fifteen-year-old’s brave decision to choose life for me.

When I reflect on what my Russian birth mother must have been going through, and think about all the arguments people of pro-choice opinion give for a girl to have an abortion, I am faced with the realization that I am 90 percent of those reasons. Consider the fact that currently in Russia there are more abortions than live births; that definitely makes me a survivor, a person with a purpose. What that purpose is at the moment, I am not sure, but for today, it was to share my story.

Used with author’s permission.