I Thought A Baby At 16 Would End My Future. Then I Had Two.

At the time, I was being sought out by Big 10 schools to play at the collegiate level. I knew that in order to continue my career in volleyball, I would have to miss the tournament and have an abortion. Little did I know the pain and trauma that would follow that decision. 

Up until that moment, I had been secretly meeting with lawyers in the city to obtain permission to have the abortion. Because I was a minor, I needed my parents’ consent, and because I was three months pregnant, I would need to have a surgical abortion. I told a room full of strangers that I couldn’t have the baby and they handled the rest. Eventually, a judge granted my abortion.  

Walking into the clinic that day, an eerie wave crashed over me, and I could feel all the darkness, pain, and sadness that had happened behind those cold walls. Immediately, I was met with shame and disgust from the receptionist who judged my age and the little money that I had. I was quickly ushered into a room with other women, all sitting in chairs lined up against the wall. One by one, women were wheeled out—some screaming and sobbing, others stone-still—as if whatever life and joy they had were left in the back room.

They gave me medicine to help with the pain but, unfortunately for me, it never kicked in. I still have vivid flashbacks of being held down by two nurses as I screamed through what felt like an eternity of pain. Their annoyance that I wouldn't sit still was palpable, yet they never offered compassion for the scared 16-year-old that lay before them. I went home that day feeling utterly empty and broken.  

One by one, women were wheeled out—some screaming and sobbing, others stone-still—as if whatever life and joy they had were left in the back room.

I tried to bury the trauma and eventually went on to achieve my goals of playing volleyball at the collegiate level. I was finally living out my dreams, but I was never able to truly be happy with my life, for the pain and guilt of my abortion consumed me. I felt like I was going to hell because of what I had done. There was a hole inside me, and I turned to drugs and alcohol to numb the pain.  

By my sophomore year, I had become completely numb to the world around me, so when my ex-boyfriend reached out to me offering free drugs, I thought I had nothing to lose. That night didn’t go as planned, and because of his bitter and malicious behavior, I became pregnant again.  

Just as I had done the first time, I turned to Planned Parenthood. This time, I was early enough to take the pills. The nurse had handed them to me, but just as she did, she asked if I was experiencing any cramping. To this day, I still don’t know why I lied, but I told her that I was. I think deep down it was a small cry for help; a cry saying that I couldn’t go through the pain of another abortion.  

Because of that lie, however, the nurse suggested that I have an ultrasound to make sure the pregnancy was not in my tubes before consuming them. To my complete surprise, I learned in that moment that I was expecting twins. I felt as if God had met me there in that ultrasound room, opening my eyes to what I was about to do. I was a twin, and He put twins in my womb, part of His divine purpose.  

I felt as if God had met me there in that ultrasound room, opening my eyes to what I was about to do.

Confused, scared, and broken down in tears, I called my mom. She was calm and gentle and immediately offered me and my twins an abundance of love and support. In that moment, I knew that I was going to keep my babies, and that I would be okay.  

The next day we went to get prenatal vitamins, and I was finally able to accept my pregnancy; the one that deep down I had always wanted. Being pregnant was one of the best times of my life, only falling short to the years I’ve spent raising my twin boys.  

In high school, I had believed that my life would end when I had a child, but now I know that my life truly hadn’t begun until I gave my life to Jesus and gave birth to my boys. They are the light of my life, my joy, and my happiness.  

If I could go back to 16-year-old Kalynn, I would tell her to trust that God had a plan and purpose for her, to reach out to those around her. She had more love and support than she realized, and even though she couldn’t see over the hurdles in front of her, her life would be full of purpose and joy.