In this line of writing, sometimes people trust you with secrets they wouldn't tell their best friends. I was honored and humbled when Denise told me about her unplanned pregnancy and it's affect on her life. She asked me to share it with you. (No graphic details are included.)

Ten years ago, when I was just beginning a promising career as a chef at a premiere resort, I fell pregnant. I had been casually dating two men, both of whom were not marriage material and made no secret that they didn’t intend to become fathers.

I had been on the birth control pill faithfully. To the best of my knowledge, I can only guess that it failed when I took antibiotics for a sore throat. Regardless, I was pregnant – by about six weeks, my doctor informed me.

Healthcare was hard to find in my small mountain town. The nearest hospital was 25 minutes away and the closest abortion clinic was a 2-1/2 trip north. I decided that without a willing partner and with my career in an upswing, my only choice was abortion. With the long trip required and my crazy schedule, I made an appointment for an abortion a month later.

That month was the most agonizing wait of my life. I wanted the procedure to be done and over. As I sat in the peace and quiet of my condo after work, I began to ponder why I wanted it to over so soon. The pregnancy hadn’t been affecting me physically at all, so it was no misery I was trying to cure myself of. As the days wore on, I realized that I was hoping for the situation to be resolved because it was so monumental.

I remember the moment I realized I had life growing inside me. Not a clump of cells or the potential for life, but an actual child. I was struck by a tremendous feeling of guilt for wanting to sweep my bad deeds under the rug, for planning to kill my innocent child.

The next day I canceled the appointment and found an obstetrician a few towns away. I started planning to raise a child – I read the pregnancy books, began childproofing my home, and put up a mobile and decorations in the nursery.

The hardest part of choosing not to have an abortion was telling the two men in my life that I was pregnant and keeping the baby. I had separate heart-to-hearts with each of them about the situation. One immediately broke it off, and the other was very flustered by my news, but pledged to do the right thing and stick with me.

After my baby boy was born, tests confirmed that he was indeed the son of the man who stood by. We raised him, never regretting that I choose to have him. He has brought a richness to my life that I never would have known otherwise. His father and I parted ways a few years ago, but he is still an active, loving dad.

I’m happy that I didn’t have an abortion. I don’t regret my son or my decision.