Here's a fascinating story from a London tab. It's about a woman who had three pregnancies as the mistress of a married man. Two of the pregnancies ended in what the Raving Atheist has taken to calling "boyfriend-assisted abortions".
Tracy's Secret Half-Sister.
Interestingly, when the mistress decided to keep the third child, her boyfriend vehemently denied it was his. She had to take him to court to force a paternity test. I wonder if part of his vehemence partly sprang from a need to deny that the other two children were also his.
Two days later, I discovered there was a reason for my nausea that went beyond heartbreak - I was pregnant.
Distraught, I sat in my house for two weeks until a letter arrived from Karl, asking if we could still be friends and intimating he still wanted more if I did. I called him and told him to come over. When he arrived, I broke the news.
He looked ashen and made it clear he didn't think I should have the baby. I didn't want to lose him and felt that, for better or worse, a termination was my only option. In the end, it was my decision and I had to live with it.
These days, many people trivialise abortion, but I will never forget mine.
Karl dropped me off, picked me up and tried to console me, but I hardly noticed his presence. I felt so empty and guilty. I called the baby Oliver William and I still think of him.
So when, three years later, I fell pregnant again, I was secretly thrilled. I desperately wanted the baby. Karl, however, made it clear again it wasn't what he wanted. Even though I was devastated by his reaction, I was so blinded by my unconditional love for him that I agreed to do as he asked. It is something I will regret for the rest of my life. I suffered from terrible depression afterwards and one might think that would be the end of things, but I was still, ridiculously, under Karl's spell. I couldn't bear to be without him.